A multiple sclerosis diagnosis represents a massive sort of
loss in a person’s life. I remember when I first heard the term “MS” used in my
direction. It nearly knocked me off my feet.
Almost immediately, friends and loved ones began offering
well-meaning words of consolation. But many of these expressions felt like pat
answers, as they tend to do, when the recipient is facing a life-changer like
MS.
Now, years later, I still have moments when I bemoan the
reality of multiple sclerosis in my life. I hate that certain others I care
about have MS too.
Still, sometimes we are able to poke fun at MS and the crazy
symptoms we juggle. None of it is funny, but a twisted sense of humor and the
ability to mock one’s own difficulties somehow feels like strength.
Arriving at such a spot took time … plenty of time. Hey, a
person needs to grieve awhile before moving on and dealing with any sort of
significant difficulty or setback.
English writer Samuel Johnson (1709-1784) described the way
any griever’s perspective can change after a spell.
“While grief is fresh, every attempt to divert only irritates. You must
wait till it be digested, and then amusement will dissipate the remains of it.”
I am still awestruck by human beings’ ability to absorb
traumatic news, such as a major medical diagnosis, and eventually find a way to
accept it and move ahead in life. That’s what every MSer does daily, particularly
after any exacerbation or progression of this baffling chronic neurological condition.
Today, for example, I felt pretty good to start. After
completing several articles and blog posts, I did a few errands and performed a
lot of physically exerting barn chores. (I was mucking stalls and sweeping barn aisles on a lovely, but unseasonably warm, spring day.) Then I decided to ride my horse.
Ding! Mistake.
Nothing terrible happened. She didn’t throw me or anything
like that. I just didn’t last long up there. Had I saved some energy and
stamina, it might have gone much better. Instead, we did a few lazy loops
around the arena at the walk and trot. And that was it. I was toast.
Running out of gusto in the middle of an enjoyable activity
or important task is a loss. And it happens to MSers all the time. We never
know when we will suddenly ram into the energy depletion wall.
That phenomenon sends us from 100 mph to zero in nothing
flat.
Just because we have experienced a loss, medically speaking,
does not mean we have to be losers. So we are not. We get up and move on (even if it sometimes takes us a little longer) and find ways to live and laugh - right in the face of the MS MonSter.
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Great reaading your blog
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