Tag Archives: talking about MS

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London Calling: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love (the) Gigi!

I went to Europe. Really. I did. I never thought it would happen. I mean, with our enormous student loan debt we never have extra money for luxuries such as a vacation. But lucky me! I’m the granddaughter of Beatrice Goldstein Kaplan. She came to America in the 40s and left all of her wonderful family in London for us to play with.  And as a result we are in no short supply of fabulous British cousins always telling us about their comfie spare rooms and how nice we will look in them. But without tickets to get across the pond it didn’t even seem worth thinking twice about.  So when the opportunity came up to think twice, I realized that money wasn’t the only reason I resisted thinking twice.  No, the money (or lack there of) was a helpful way to avoid the other reason for not considering this vacation. That being the one that hides underneath every moment when living with an incurable, unpredictable, potentially progressive disease.

About 3 years ago, my 20+ year old MS started acting out beyond it’s normal behavioral issues. Symptoms heightened and I shortened. (And I’m only 5’2″- so I don’t have much to work with here!) Over these past years I’ve been challenged by constant dizziness, greater limitation in my ability to walk and worse of all, an inability to stand for lengths of time. Like- for example- long enough to cook dinner. But as all of us with MS do- I found new ways to cope. Not-to-say that any of it is easy. These changes are always emotional ones. But when all is said-and-done, I have found a way to live within my limits-de-jour. So long as my expectations of the day are low and I have the “bright-side” handy when I need to break it out, – I can deal.  Sorry I left the kitchen such a mess honey…you know….i have MS 😉

So when the possibility of venturing across the pond became a reality I went in to high-gear worry. I would have to come out of hiding and face the fact that I am now “it.”

Not long after our tickets were booked we started realizing that we have other close connections on the mainland. (that being Europe) Our lovely former neighbors moved to Berlin and our friend knew someone who has a great place to stay in Paris. Now how could we possibly make that voyage and not take advantage of these opportunities. But in the back of my head I’m thinking, If we don’t do it now we may not have the option when I’m less able. Oh wait. Not when; should I become less able. (Phew! Found that bit optimism in my back pocket!)

And though my adorable college professor husband doesn’t earn the big bucks (“even though we aint got money“) we do have summer vacations! So we reserved August for what we hoped would be an amazing trip.  And it was all that; for reasons planned and unplanned, expected and unexpected. And I learned a lot more than the detailed history of the Berlin-Wall falling or how something called a Shandy is a great way to experience an English Pub with an actual beer product in hand.

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Tune in next time for the second episode in the series “London Calling or How I stopped worrying and love GiGi” when I will discuss my experience with MS, accessibility in Europe and my new love for GiGi – replete with photos evidence for all of the afore mentioned.!

(BTW: If you subscribe to this blog- you will be notified of when that happens. I’m thinking this weekend.. but who knows!)

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Destination Unknown

While you are in the midst of pre-holiday scramble, take a moment to read my latest essay on Health Central’s MS site. My seasonally non-specific December post will not only give you a break from the stress of the holiday prep crazies, but it will also put your life in to a comparative perspective that may be comforting at the time of year when we all take stock. But that’s just my speculation. Go decide for yourself.  And return to your previously scheduled “holiday crazy” with a new perspective~

Destination Unknown

If you are reading this post, chances are good that you’ve been diagnosed with MS and have your very own diagnostic tale; a “Where were you when you heard about Kennedy, Lennon, Cobain” story. It’s often the first exchange when two people with MS meet.  “Diagnosed, 1988, only took one week after my first symptom,” or “Diagnosed last year after a decade of unexplained symptoms and dismissive doctors.” No matter how our stories differ, that day puts us on the same train; the one with no clear destination or announcements along the way to keep our bearings. (more)

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This just in!

Health Central has produced some terrific Multiple Sclerosis videos over the years that are a must see.

And here is my contribution:

While you are there, check out the other offerings of the site. The conversations going on in the MS community are not only informative but are often soothing. It’s good to know that you are not the only one dealing with it.

Enjoy and spread the link. * Full discloser:

*This was a challenging shoot (4+ hours). I think I slept for 3 hours after all was said and done. Kudos to the camera man and the editors who made it seem like a smooth conversation!

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Unexpected Healing- or how M&M’s can make anything easier to swallow

A week ago I accompanied a good friend to a doctor’s appointment. I’ve known her for exactly 8 years 7 months and a week. I don’t usually keep such close record of when I connect with friends but we have a timer that evolves before our eyes, reminding us of when we met. Her son was born in the same hospital a week before Madeline and we did our new mommy class together. I was going through a very difficult post-partum-oh-my-god-how-will-I-care-for my-new-baby-when-I-have-MS thing. Challenging times at best. And when I walked in the room on the second week of class I immediately felt that she would be a good person to get to know… kinda like you know a good melon. 😉 My instincts proved true and we’ve been friends since. With our husbands, we enjoy a lot of common ground. We are all in education and thus have similar interests. Of course we also enjoy marveling at how much our kids have grown since we first met, when they were little more than cute, high maintenance blobs in a carrying basket. And over the years since, though distracted by life’s happenings, we found time to connect once or twice a year. Considering how time moves when you’re distracted by your child , it seemed frequent.

Two weeks ago we gained more common ground. Linda (she’s my other Linda, btw) called to tell me that her doctor thinks she may have MS. I was stunned. I tried to keep it together to be positive and helpful when we shared this conversation. I spend so much time thinking and talking about what newly diagnosed people need and it all fell to the ground when this good friend came to me. How can she have MS!!

Linda and her husband have always been very supportive of my efforts and challenges. They’re the kind of people that are sincerely listening when you talk to them. (Awesome eye-contact… I’m sure you know the type!) And it made them stand out as friends. So, I repeat, how can this be? I replayed the tape of our friendship, highlighting the caring moments and discussions about my MS. And like that moment in a movie when the plot comes to a screeching halt and nothing is what you thought it was and you have to watch it again from the beginning with your new knowledge (The Sixth Sense or The Usual Suspects come to mind.) I went back and looked at our friendship over these years with the new perspective; knowing we would come to this point. And ultimately, I’m back at the same point. It’s just bizarre! I’ve become close friends with many people who have MS over the years. Introduced to them because of our commonality. But this is the first time a good friend of mine has been diagnosed with MS and it seems like a freak occurrence. It got me thinking about where I was when I was in her place.

Everything was different when I was diagnosed. As a 20-year old college girl, nothing in my life was permanent. I struggled with the question marks of what my future would hold, a fear that sits on everyone’s diagnostic examining table. The big difference is that I had no stability. Nothing was permanent and in experiencing this with Linda, I found comfort in the place she is today. With her husband and kids, her career and identity, she is well established. She has a wonderful support network to help her navigate this. And while she has the strength of character to get through it on her own, she also has much more than I knew in 1988. As the anxiety wells up in me, her place in life brings me relief.

Going through this experience with her, I feel good about the comparison. I want to support her through it, in ways that weren’t available to me, to be that reassuring person I didn’t know. And there is something reparative for me in that role. It’s a great time to come home with this diagnosis. There are so many treatment options, so much hope. She will begin treating the “MS” immediately; she’ll hit the ground running. With all the anxiety and uncertainty, this is truly something to feel good about. And I hope ours is a comparison that helps her, makes her recognize all that she has.  And together we can have the “Damn, that must have sucked for you!” moment.

She invited me to come with her to her new neurologist to confirm her diagnosis. It was a very powerful experience. There were many things rushing through my brain, dodging the scars, while I tried to be present for her. We managed to bring laughter to the day in spite of the obvious emotional drag to the contrary. At one point, during the familiar exam her neurologist had noticed that her one leg was weaker than the other. She wondered whether he was pushing too hard on her leg. So he turned to me for a baseline. We laughed as I told him my deal. And his response was, “ Great, you have had MS for 21 years and you would never know.” Then he noted my stick propped up in the corner. And I wondered, am I an encouraging example for Linda or a frightening one? So we left and drove right to the local CVS and picked up some M&M chasers. This is a very important part of any diagnostic experience. And there are no side effects if you practice moderation… not that we did, just saying . 😉

Quite frankly I was excited to have an MS pal. (Though I tried to keep that to myself!) While I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, I can’t help but to appreciate having someone who is already a good friend to share this experience. It makes my two decades with this disease more valuable knowing that I can use it to help Linda. And the truth is, I can heal the parts of myself that have a 21-year old hurt from the time I went through this alone, not knowing about the healing properties of M&Ms.  😉

In this introspective time (seriously, all times are introspective for me!) I reread a comment she made on my blog back in October, in response to “this-ability.”

Amy, I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason – even if you don’t know what it is right away. It seems, though, that you were able to figure this one out quickly. And, now you are able to enjoy the parts of your life that mean the most, (without feeling guilty about falling asleep during a bedtime book.)
I am always inspired by you. Enjoy this time
~ Linda (the other one)

Because I have lived my entire adult life with MS, I have grown in ways that I wouldn’t have otherwise. I’ve seen this familiar strength and resilience in everyone I have met who endures this challenge. Looking back at Linda’s words, I know that she has that strength already and that she will do well no matter what her future holds. So Linda, text me if you need me. I will always drive over with all your favorite M&Ms. (Did you know they have coconut now? Life is rich, isn’t it?)

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Finding Familiarity in Fatigue

For the past few months I’ve been answering questions on multiplesclerosiscentral.com. It’s a excellent place to find information and connect to others with MS who have similar concerns. Serving in this capacity has been enlightening, not only in the satisfaction of using my 21 years experience with the disease to answer questions; but also for the learning opportunity it provides. Recently I wrote to someone who is unsure of her diagnosis, but is experiencing fatigue. After addressing her specifics, I linked her to my blog essay on the subject and in doing so took the opportunity to reread it, as well as the comments.

Out of the 100 essays posted on this blog I think that the responses to this one resonate the most. So, I’m taking a moment to invite more of you to read this post, discussing what is perhaps the most challenging MS symptom to live with and explain to others. The comments on this post invigorate me to continue writing in order to explain to all who want to know what living with Multiple Sclerosis is like, as well as for those who already know what it’s like, but just need reaffirmation.  As always- your comments are most valuable to me.

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“The Stony Limits Do Not Hold Love Out…”

Two weeks ago two friends went shopping. They had formed a bond around this happening 20-years ago when they first met. Back when they shopped for treasures on their college budgets in unexpected places. What they found was inconsequential. It only served as goalposts of their time together. This ritual provided a space where they shared conversation, laughter, ideas, each punctuated by the “shzing” of hangers sliding across racks and calls from the next aisle to “checkout” the discovery. Value City and local thrift stores were the inauspicious places they found these looked-over gems or rock bottom remainders that no one had recognized for what they were.  Those shopping trips were the comfortable dance to all the best songs they played over and over and over.

The girls are now women; mothers, wives and professionals.  They don’t have to reach too far down to find the college girls they once were together. Both have managed to keep that self close by. So when they see each other no matter how much time has passed since the last visit, they find the understanding and love easily accessible, below the skin nuanced by the years they’ve lived since. And as they shopped two weeks ago, they fell into the grooves established decades prior. Though this time it was different. This time they both provided more than memories and a comfort of a shared history. This time they needed each other for physical support as they went through the motions of their historic ritual.  While one endures the disease she’s had since they first met, the other faces a new, more challenging diagnosis that shakes the ground they have always felt secure on.

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Finding a way to absorb the reality of Linda’s cancer has left me immobilized… yet flailing. I’m desperately trying to get my arms around all that she is and what she means in my life. As the weeks have passed I have found the place deep inside that only she can touch and I’ve rested there. Within that space has come an outpouring of emotion and words in an unstoppable flow. It’s the soundtrack of our 20-year friendship – a melodic hum that exists beneath everything. And while my feelings are often beyond description, I am taking this time to honor her and what we share. I know it will empower me from now on as I continue to read and reflect on this most remarkable friendship.

So here goes…

I met Linda P. a few months after my MS diagnosis. Tumultuous is not a strong enough term to describe the few years leading up to the Fall of 1988.  In short, my parent’s sudden divorce and my mom’s move to Florida led me in desperation to an abusive boyfriend. Escaping that, I moved to Maryland to attend the state university at College Park and after three semesters, I transferred to a different campus in search of a something more meaningful both academically and personally. I was getting used to making these big decisions on my own.

That summer before I started at the new campus began with my 20th birthday and the out-of-nowhere diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis. It was a shocking blow to my fragile and forced independence. But in spite of my fear, I continued on by myself looking for a community to be a part of while finishing my film degree. Just a few weeks after I moved to the Baltimore suburbs and started at the UMBC film program, I found a group of people who felt good to be around. Just as the cream rises to the surface, so did Linda. It quickly became clear that we had something special. You know how sometimes you meet someone and they match you in ways you didn’t know possible? Well that was how it was with Linda. And as I search for descriptors to convey all that we have, I get lost in the reverie of everyday moments and how it felt back then to have her energy with me all the time.

Trying to describe a friendship in words is not unlike trying to sing a painting.  I’m not sure if it was her spirited way of appreciating every moment that drew me in or her adorable personality.  At this time, making new friends and meeting new people wasn’t easy. I was unsure and nervous about what MS would mean for me and this seemed transparent in my insecure presence.  Many people couldn’t deal with this uncertain reality of mine and were obvious in their apprehension. But Linda never shied away. She clearly accepted every part of who I was in ways I could not yet do for myself. She gave new meaning and comfort to my world.

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