I realize this is a blog dedicated to discussing the experience of having Multiple Sclerosis. But I am tired of talking about it for this weekend so let's talk of other things.
I am in need of some fun.
The latest tag game is to make a list of four things about yourself that are true and one thing which is false.
You...my adored readers...must guess which statement is false about me.
Feel free to tag yourself if you haven't already done this a zillion times.
1. I have a fear of heights, the dark, and deep water.
2. I once attended an all girl's school.
3. My favorite ice-cream is cherry garcia.
4. I sleep with my socks and watch on.
5. I have always loved Don Knotts.
Which statement is false?
Come sit a spell and shoot the breeze. Sweeten the day with a little synchronicity...
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
My first Neurology Appointment
They say everything happens for a reason. I am inclined to believe that. Or maybe it is just that I want to believe that. Believing, even if it is an illusion, is preferable to not believing in anything at all.
When I went in to get my MRI to test for signs of Multiple Sclerosis I knew already. I didn't need the images of my brain to tell me. My gut knew. But of course I did the test anyway because that is what you do. You proceed in a linear fashion. I conceded to put my faith in science.
And science found that I have lesions, multiple ones in my brain.
Back to reasons. Why MS? Why me? Why now?
The answer came to me with a sharp edged clarity. Why not me? Why not now?
I paused outside the big glass doors of the neurology hospital. I knew that once I stepped through those doors my life would be irrevocably changed and there would be no turning back. Time is a funny thing at those moments. It slows down to the most imperceptible movements. The motion of hands and a pull at a door handle, the shuffle of feet, the faces of people passing by, a car rolling into a parking space all slowed down to that one moment in time.
Everyday people cross these invisible lines, unknown to everyone else. Nobody can do it for us. We must cross over alone.
I had to check in before going to the waiting room where I would see my neurologist. There were many people there sitting in a row of wooden chairs alongside the wall. I hated this place immediately. It reminded me of all the waiting rooms I had ever been in with that feeling of gloomy anticipation. I got directions to the doctor's waiting room and I wedged myself in a seat against the wall.
So these were neurology patients. I looked at the faces. Most were elderly. Some had walkers or canes. One woman was wheeled into the waiting room in front of me. This woman struck me the most. She must have had Parkinson's disease or something similar. She was so frail and shaking all over, but particularly her hands. I am ashamed to say I did not want to see her.
When it was time for me to go in I felt ready. I had my little notebook of questions. I had already researched MS and knew much about it. I knew what medication I wanted to try.
My doctor was lovely. I was told that she would give me TLC by the receptionist who also had her as her doctor.
My neurologist asked me some questions about my medical history. There really wasn't much to tell from past years. I have been so healthy that I couldn't even remember the last time I had the flu. Hell I have never had a broken bone, not even a sprain. I have never been stung by a bee! The doctor joked that I was saving up for something big. I talked about the last six months and my growing awareness that something was wrong. I talked about losing my balance, feeling dizzy, tingles in my extremities, stiffness, numbness, and problems with my vision. She listened intently and wrote it all down. I also told her of my seemingly isolated incident of optical neuritis ten years ago.
I got to ask my questions next. I had practical questions about insurance and financial matters. Of course I asked about diagnosis and prognosis. From prior doctor's reports, my medical history, the MRI, blood work negating other reasons for my symptoms, she was able to say that yes this was MS. As far as prognosis, she told me how she had two ladies coming to see her with MS following me. She told me that one woman was still running and playing racquetball and having very little in the way of symptoms. My doctor followed with, that the other woman needed a walker to be able to get around. Both women were the same age. In other words, she couldn't tell me. She did think I have the relapsing remitting kind of multiple sclerosis where I will have episodes of symptoms which will eventually abate and resolve.
We discussed treatments next. I told her I had researched Rebif and that was the one I would want to try. She was totally accepting of my choice which I was not ready for. I thought that she would have a medication already in mind. I felt more in control of this. I told her that I really didn't want to take the medication at all but that I would. The medication for MS is no easy thing. If only it were a daily pill. But unfortunately you have to inject yourself. With my medication of choice I would self inject three times a week. The side effects include skin reactions from the injections, flu-like symptoms, and the chance of liver damage. So basically I am signing up to have the flu every other day. They say that the side effects wear off and some people get used to it. I am hoping that happens. The other thing is that these drugs do nothing for your symptoms right now. They only help in slowing down the disease so you don't get more lesions over time. The drugs cannot undo the damage already done. And the efficacy for any one of the drugs (there are really only about five choices) is only about 30%. So you are getting purposefully sick each week in hopes of not getting very sick...in the future.
Faith seems to be inherent in dealing with this disease: Faith in oneself to cope, faith in doctors, faith in science, and ultimately faith in something bigger than all of us vulnerable bits of flesh and grey matter.
I had a small examination while in her office. She had me perform people tricks. I had to walk a line, heel to toe, walk on tip toes, walk on heels, be tapped with a rubber mallet, be pulled and show my strength in pushing back with feet, legs, and arms. I was in remission so I told her she should have seen me several weeks ago. I would not have been able to do any walking or standing without falling down. She told me I was still no ballerina. I laughed. No wonder my dreams of dancing in tutus never worked out. She found weakness in different places of my body and my gait was still off. At the time of the visit I was still having some vision issues including seeing flashes of light in my periphery.
Doctors love to do tests and my neurologist is no exception. She was kind to me in not forcing me to do a spinal tap. No thanks. We negotiated a deal where I would get a C-Spine MRI and some evoked potentials testing done. More research for me to understand what in the heck those were.
The visit ended with a promise for future visits. She would show me how to do the Rebif injections following her examination of my other tests. No way out of this. An official diagnosis was forthcoming. I would be coming to this building a lot. I looked around to see if I could find any bit of home here, a familiar poster, sunlight through the window blinds, a swatch of threadbare carpet.
Firsts are always hard. Maybe for the simple reason that you can't go back. Time, no matter how much you wish, or pray, or will it, will only move forward.
I walked in that hospital door voluntarily. I knew what would be told to me. I walked out the same person I always was. I just knew more. I have a new label. Patient. Patient with an incurable disease. But it doesn't change the fact that I am me and have to live this life as I have always had to do. The line had been crossed and time was allowed to once again regain its momentum. Like a choreographed dance I stepped into line with it.
When I went in to get my MRI to test for signs of Multiple Sclerosis I knew already. I didn't need the images of my brain to tell me. My gut knew. But of course I did the test anyway because that is what you do. You proceed in a linear fashion. I conceded to put my faith in science.
And science found that I have lesions, multiple ones in my brain.
Back to reasons. Why MS? Why me? Why now?
The answer came to me with a sharp edged clarity. Why not me? Why not now?
I paused outside the big glass doors of the neurology hospital. I knew that once I stepped through those doors my life would be irrevocably changed and there would be no turning back. Time is a funny thing at those moments. It slows down to the most imperceptible movements. The motion of hands and a pull at a door handle, the shuffle of feet, the faces of people passing by, a car rolling into a parking space all slowed down to that one moment in time.
Everyday people cross these invisible lines, unknown to everyone else. Nobody can do it for us. We must cross over alone.
I had to check in before going to the waiting room where I would see my neurologist. There were many people there sitting in a row of wooden chairs alongside the wall. I hated this place immediately. It reminded me of all the waiting rooms I had ever been in with that feeling of gloomy anticipation. I got directions to the doctor's waiting room and I wedged myself in a seat against the wall.
So these were neurology patients. I looked at the faces. Most were elderly. Some had walkers or canes. One woman was wheeled into the waiting room in front of me. This woman struck me the most. She must have had Parkinson's disease or something similar. She was so frail and shaking all over, but particularly her hands. I am ashamed to say I did not want to see her.
When it was time for me to go in I felt ready. I had my little notebook of questions. I had already researched MS and knew much about it. I knew what medication I wanted to try.
My doctor was lovely. I was told that she would give me TLC by the receptionist who also had her as her doctor.
My neurologist asked me some questions about my medical history. There really wasn't much to tell from past years. I have been so healthy that I couldn't even remember the last time I had the flu. Hell I have never had a broken bone, not even a sprain. I have never been stung by a bee! The doctor joked that I was saving up for something big. I talked about the last six months and my growing awareness that something was wrong. I talked about losing my balance, feeling dizzy, tingles in my extremities, stiffness, numbness, and problems with my vision. She listened intently and wrote it all down. I also told her of my seemingly isolated incident of optical neuritis ten years ago.
I got to ask my questions next. I had practical questions about insurance and financial matters. Of course I asked about diagnosis and prognosis. From prior doctor's reports, my medical history, the MRI, blood work negating other reasons for my symptoms, she was able to say that yes this was MS. As far as prognosis, she told me how she had two ladies coming to see her with MS following me. She told me that one woman was still running and playing racquetball and having very little in the way of symptoms. My doctor followed with, that the other woman needed a walker to be able to get around. Both women were the same age. In other words, she couldn't tell me. She did think I have the relapsing remitting kind of multiple sclerosis where I will have episodes of symptoms which will eventually abate and resolve.
We discussed treatments next. I told her I had researched Rebif and that was the one I would want to try. She was totally accepting of my choice which I was not ready for. I thought that she would have a medication already in mind. I felt more in control of this. I told her that I really didn't want to take the medication at all but that I would. The medication for MS is no easy thing. If only it were a daily pill. But unfortunately you have to inject yourself. With my medication of choice I would self inject three times a week. The side effects include skin reactions from the injections, flu-like symptoms, and the chance of liver damage. So basically I am signing up to have the flu every other day. They say that the side effects wear off and some people get used to it. I am hoping that happens. The other thing is that these drugs do nothing for your symptoms right now. They only help in slowing down the disease so you don't get more lesions over time. The drugs cannot undo the damage already done. And the efficacy for any one of the drugs (there are really only about five choices) is only about 30%. So you are getting purposefully sick each week in hopes of not getting very sick...in the future.
Faith seems to be inherent in dealing with this disease: Faith in oneself to cope, faith in doctors, faith in science, and ultimately faith in something bigger than all of us vulnerable bits of flesh and grey matter.
I had a small examination while in her office. She had me perform people tricks. I had to walk a line, heel to toe, walk on tip toes, walk on heels, be tapped with a rubber mallet, be pulled and show my strength in pushing back with feet, legs, and arms. I was in remission so I told her she should have seen me several weeks ago. I would not have been able to do any walking or standing without falling down. She told me I was still no ballerina. I laughed. No wonder my dreams of dancing in tutus never worked out. She found weakness in different places of my body and my gait was still off. At the time of the visit I was still having some vision issues including seeing flashes of light in my periphery.
Doctors love to do tests and my neurologist is no exception. She was kind to me in not forcing me to do a spinal tap. No thanks. We negotiated a deal where I would get a C-Spine MRI and some evoked potentials testing done. More research for me to understand what in the heck those were.
The visit ended with a promise for future visits. She would show me how to do the Rebif injections following her examination of my other tests. No way out of this. An official diagnosis was forthcoming. I would be coming to this building a lot. I looked around to see if I could find any bit of home here, a familiar poster, sunlight through the window blinds, a swatch of threadbare carpet.
Firsts are always hard. Maybe for the simple reason that you can't go back. Time, no matter how much you wish, or pray, or will it, will only move forward.
I walked in that hospital door voluntarily. I knew what would be told to me. I walked out the same person I always was. I just knew more. I have a new label. Patient. Patient with an incurable disease. But it doesn't change the fact that I am me and have to live this life as I have always had to do. The line had been crossed and time was allowed to once again regain its momentum. Like a choreographed dance I stepped into line with it.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Refresh
Oh how I wish to be a computer page. Then I could refresh myself and start anew.
Here I go...
*Refresh*
Now where was I?
Oh yeah...I have this MS thing.
Well...I have decided to go into denial about it. Seems on course to me with the whole grief cycle.
Maybe they mixed up my MRI with someone else's. Yeah...that's the ticket.
Maybe I dreamed the whole thing.
Maybe I am really a butterfly imagining I am a woman.
Or maybe I have MS and it really really really sucks.
I kinda took some time out for a little depression. But I am back on track now...whatever that means.
More writing...more meandering thoughts....more never ending talk...coming your way.
Are you excited or what?
Here I go...
*Refresh*
Now where was I?
Oh yeah...I have this MS thing.
Well...I have decided to go into denial about it. Seems on course to me with the whole grief cycle.
Maybe they mixed up my MRI with someone else's. Yeah...that's the ticket.
Maybe I dreamed the whole thing.
Maybe I am really a butterfly imagining I am a woman.
Or maybe I have MS and it really really really sucks.
I kinda took some time out for a little depression. But I am back on track now...whatever that means.
More writing...more meandering thoughts....more never ending talk...coming your way.
Are you excited or what?
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Before going to the Neurologist
June 7th, 2007
Soon I will be off to meet my neurologist. Sounds so fancy...*I* have a neurologist. I really don't want a neurologist but this is life with all it's many fascinating facets. If you had told me ten years ago this would happen I would have run for the hills. But here I am ready to face this undetermined future. As it is for all people. I feel a sense of relief in some ways...as though this great secret is being revealed to me early. Everyone else...well...they have to wait for their bit of news or bad luck. Me....I will know ahead of time. There has to be advantages to that.
I am scared. I won't lie. I don't want to see my lesions or white matter or anything at all really. I want to pretend this is not happening and walk away oblivious. But...that ain't happening today.
So...with my inflamed brain...I will trudge off to the doctor. Ooooh the melodrama. Do you see a lifetime movie in my future?
Here is a question for you...who would you have play you...in your lifetime movie of the week? I am thinking maybe...Jodi Foster to play me. Yeah.
Soon I will be off to meet my neurologist. Sounds so fancy...*I* have a neurologist. I really don't want a neurologist but this is life with all it's many fascinating facets. If you had told me ten years ago this would happen I would have run for the hills. But here I am ready to face this undetermined future. As it is for all people. I feel a sense of relief in some ways...as though this great secret is being revealed to me early. Everyone else...well...they have to wait for their bit of news or bad luck. Me....I will know ahead of time. There has to be advantages to that.
I am scared. I won't lie. I don't want to see my lesions or white matter or anything at all really. I want to pretend this is not happening and walk away oblivious. But...that ain't happening today.
So...with my inflamed brain...I will trudge off to the doctor. Ooooh the melodrama. Do you see a lifetime movie in my future?
Here is a question for you...who would you have play you...in your lifetime movie of the week? I am thinking maybe...Jodi Foster to play me. Yeah.
June 6th entry
I guess the main thing I am doing right now is to find my side of normal. Truly I have no idea at this point. I can be feeling great one day and then feel like shit the next.
I'm tired today. Really really tired. Like the kind of tired you get when you move into a new house...you have been working all day...carrying boxes...and it is late at night and you finally collapse. Or the kinda tired after working two jobs in one day. Or the kind of tired you get from running a marathon in the hot sun all day. But I haven't done any of these things today or anytime recently. So I am just tired for...no reason.
The sorta good thing about feeling so tired is that I lose my gumption to worry or get angry about things. Setting fire to the house are you? That's nice. You painted the cat orange...great color. You sold all my jewlery on E-Bay...good for you! Now just let me rest here...Zzzzzzzzz
I do worry that this tiredness will be a permanent part of my life. When will I feel the zip in my zippitydoodah? Will I be like that dormouse from Alice in Wonderland who was always falling asleep mid-sentence and mid-story?
Whatever happens I will adapt. I always do. It is just going to take time to figure out how this will be for me.
In the meantime...I declare a nap time for everyone...just so I don't feel so out of the ordinary.
I will see you when I wake up. Sweet dreams everyone.
I'm tired today. Really really tired. Like the kind of tired you get when you move into a new house...you have been working all day...carrying boxes...and it is late at night and you finally collapse. Or the kinda tired after working two jobs in one day. Or the kind of tired you get from running a marathon in the hot sun all day. But I haven't done any of these things today or anytime recently. So I am just tired for...no reason.
The sorta good thing about feeling so tired is that I lose my gumption to worry or get angry about things. Setting fire to the house are you? That's nice. You painted the cat orange...great color. You sold all my jewlery on E-Bay...good for you! Now just let me rest here...Zzzzzzzzz
I do worry that this tiredness will be a permanent part of my life. When will I feel the zip in my zippitydoodah? Will I be like that dormouse from Alice in Wonderland who was always falling asleep mid-sentence and mid-story?
Whatever happens I will adapt. I always do. It is just going to take time to figure out how this will be for me.
In the meantime...I declare a nap time for everyone...just so I don't feel so out of the ordinary.
I will see you when I wake up. Sweet dreams everyone.
Last Sunday's entry
Just woke up and I am finding that my left eye is a bit blurry. My eye itself has been aching for several days. The thing is that I went to the opathamologist upon recommendation from my doctor as I was experiencing some weird symptoms in that eye. What symptoms you ask? I am getting these flashes of light and a floater in the center....like a dark ring. Of course I thought I was going nuts with all this stuff. While I was at the eye doctor he dialated my eyes but didn't find inflammation. This turned out to be odd as the MRI clearly showed my doctor that my left eye was showing definite inflammation. The MRI was two days later...perhaps that was all it took. In fact the eye doctor told me that with MS...symptoms can come on so rapidly and progress that it is sometimes hard to catch them right when you do come for a visit. I am kinda bummed that the eye doc didn't find it because maybe he could have given me some medication. Now my eye hurts and is quite blurry with a little blind spot.
Okay...let me backtrack and give you a little history.
About ten years ago when I was 32 I had my first experience with all of this. At that time I had just given up my job to stay home with my two baby boys who were fifteen months apart. So I was pretty darn busy. But one day I felt weird. I felt dizzy like and I began to lose sight in this same left eye. Things began to dim and narrow and I had a growing blind spot. I had never experienced anything like it and I was scared to say the least.
I went to the doctor who was an alarmist. I pressed for information about what this could be. This woman told me it was very serious and could be a brain tumor or other horrible possibilities including MS. I think my mind only heard the brain tumor part. She hooked me up to get an MRI the next day. I remember that evening going home and thinking that I was going to die. I was so scared I just wanted to be by myself but that is not possible with two babies!
The following day I had my MRI. I was so anxious they gave me valium beforehand. It didn't help. It was fortunate that the neurologist was right there on hand and....we pressed for him to tell us the results. There was no way in hell I was going to go home and wait. A little elderly doctor invited us in his office and he told me that I had an inflammation of the optical chord.....that I had a virus and that I would be given medicine and it would all be better in several weeks. I was tremendously relieved of course but I still grilled him. "So no brain tumor...no chance of having MS" He smiled and shook his head no and told me, "You have a beautiful brain."
I went home like a wet wash rag. I was so emotionally spent but relieved. And like he said...the eye did get better. I still retained the blind spot but my eyes compensated so I stopped noticing it.
Fast forward ten years and....yes I am noticing my left eye now! I want to go back and wring that little old doctor's neck! But I am convinced that he probabaly didn't know. Multiple Sclerosis is such a tricky devil to diagnose.
The synchronicity part of my story is that I was given so many warnings of what was to come before I had any symptoms at all. I believe these warnings have saved me. I am catching this thing right as it starts. If I didn't believe in God before (I did actually but hypothetically), I do now. Maybe even angels exist. Who knows? But something is going on.
I have much to say about synchronicity. It has been one predominant theme in my life. If there is one thing I would like to pass on to people with whatever you are currently dealing with, it is to be open to listening. Be open to knowing things even when you don't particularly want to know them. Someday it just may save your life.
Okay...let me backtrack and give you a little history.
About ten years ago when I was 32 I had my first experience with all of this. At that time I had just given up my job to stay home with my two baby boys who were fifteen months apart. So I was pretty darn busy. But one day I felt weird. I felt dizzy like and I began to lose sight in this same left eye. Things began to dim and narrow and I had a growing blind spot. I had never experienced anything like it and I was scared to say the least.
I went to the doctor who was an alarmist. I pressed for information about what this could be. This woman told me it was very serious and could be a brain tumor or other horrible possibilities including MS. I think my mind only heard the brain tumor part. She hooked me up to get an MRI the next day. I remember that evening going home and thinking that I was going to die. I was so scared I just wanted to be by myself but that is not possible with two babies!
The following day I had my MRI. I was so anxious they gave me valium beforehand. It didn't help. It was fortunate that the neurologist was right there on hand and....we pressed for him to tell us the results. There was no way in hell I was going to go home and wait. A little elderly doctor invited us in his office and he told me that I had an inflammation of the optical chord.....that I had a virus and that I would be given medicine and it would all be better in several weeks. I was tremendously relieved of course but I still grilled him. "So no brain tumor...no chance of having MS" He smiled and shook his head no and told me, "You have a beautiful brain."
I went home like a wet wash rag. I was so emotionally spent but relieved. And like he said...the eye did get better. I still retained the blind spot but my eyes compensated so I stopped noticing it.
Fast forward ten years and....yes I am noticing my left eye now! I want to go back and wring that little old doctor's neck! But I am convinced that he probabaly didn't know. Multiple Sclerosis is such a tricky devil to diagnose.
The synchronicity part of my story is that I was given so many warnings of what was to come before I had any symptoms at all. I believe these warnings have saved me. I am catching this thing right as it starts. If I didn't believe in God before (I did actually but hypothetically), I do now. Maybe even angels exist. Who knows? But something is going on.
I have much to say about synchronicity. It has been one predominant theme in my life. If there is one thing I would like to pass on to people with whatever you are currently dealing with, it is to be open to listening. Be open to knowing things even when you don't particularly want to know them. Someday it just may save your life.
Saturday, June 9, 2007
The Beginning
This will be the beginning of my on-line diary about my experience with this disease, Mutiple Sclerosis. I have been noticing that some people have named their disease...some calling it "The Beast" or more pet like names like Fred. Since I just obtained knowledge of my friend here...I don't have a name yet. But I am open to suggestions.
This really is a story with a long history of strange events and synchronicities which I am only now coming to process in my conscious mind.
I can only say with 100% certainty that this was meant to be. This event has meaning in my life just like most of the happenings in my life. And you can believe this or not, no matter. But I believe and this is what will carry me through this journey.
Apologies already for sounding like some damn pop psychology book. Sometimes the cliches you hear about life become real. You live them and all of a sudden they aren't cliches anymore. You get it.
At any rate...here I am and I wonder where to begin with this story.
Let's start with now and later I can backtrack.
I just got diagnosed on Wednesday May 30th at about 1:44 in the afternoon. Strangest thing about the time. I had been waking up at that exact time but in the morning for about a week. I would foggily see the flash of my digital clock with that time. I thought about how peculiar that was and then I awoke to find my youngest son had drawn the number four with big lights around it and had left it for me to see on the kitchen table. I knew something would happen at that time but I didn't know what. Now I know.
On Wednesday I was waiting for the call from my doctor. I knew it could be yet another day to wait but I was hopeful should he call early that it would be good news. I had one phone call before his. I raced to the phone and began hearing a voice that sounded so much like my doctor's but then the voice said..."This is Sprint and we have a cell phone for you." I slammed down the phone in disgust. Finally THE phone call came and I was waiting for him to say "Nothing could be found and you have a beautiful brain." I was even ready for..."The MRI is inconclusive so let's do more tests."
But those scenarios I had so carefully planned, did not happen.
It was a rather short conversation and I actually have it recorded. My answering machine had started to pick up and so it is all there. He talked of lesions, white matter, swelling and inflammation. The word demylenization (I need to check the spelling of this) came up. Lastly the diagnosis came when he said the word I had known but was dreading. Multiple Sclerosis. There were some pauses on both of our ends. I am sure doctors do not enjoy saying such things. And I sure know that we patients don't like hearing such things. At first I am not sure I did hear it really. I thanked him for telling me and he gave me the number for neurology as this would be my next stop along my journey.
After I hung up the phone my first response was fury. I was ranting to myself out loud. "He did NOT just say that!" A stream of explicatives poured out of my mouth. I wanted to break things. I wanted to punch holes in walls...anything to make this stop.
But yet I knew. I *knew* all along. On the way to the MRI the previous day I asked my gut if I had this. My gut...who is never wrong said...yes.
This really is a story with a long history of strange events and synchronicities which I am only now coming to process in my conscious mind.
I can only say with 100% certainty that this was meant to be. This event has meaning in my life just like most of the happenings in my life. And you can believe this or not, no matter. But I believe and this is what will carry me through this journey.
Apologies already for sounding like some damn pop psychology book. Sometimes the cliches you hear about life become real. You live them and all of a sudden they aren't cliches anymore. You get it.
At any rate...here I am and I wonder where to begin with this story.
Let's start with now and later I can backtrack.
I just got diagnosed on Wednesday May 30th at about 1:44 in the afternoon. Strangest thing about the time. I had been waking up at that exact time but in the morning for about a week. I would foggily see the flash of my digital clock with that time. I thought about how peculiar that was and then I awoke to find my youngest son had drawn the number four with big lights around it and had left it for me to see on the kitchen table. I knew something would happen at that time but I didn't know what. Now I know.
On Wednesday I was waiting for the call from my doctor. I knew it could be yet another day to wait but I was hopeful should he call early that it would be good news. I had one phone call before his. I raced to the phone and began hearing a voice that sounded so much like my doctor's but then the voice said..."This is Sprint and we have a cell phone for you." I slammed down the phone in disgust. Finally THE phone call came and I was waiting for him to say "Nothing could be found and you have a beautiful brain." I was even ready for..."The MRI is inconclusive so let's do more tests."
But those scenarios I had so carefully planned, did not happen.
It was a rather short conversation and I actually have it recorded. My answering machine had started to pick up and so it is all there. He talked of lesions, white matter, swelling and inflammation. The word demylenization (I need to check the spelling of this) came up. Lastly the diagnosis came when he said the word I had known but was dreading. Multiple Sclerosis. There were some pauses on both of our ends. I am sure doctors do not enjoy saying such things. And I sure know that we patients don't like hearing such things. At first I am not sure I did hear it really. I thanked him for telling me and he gave me the number for neurology as this would be my next stop along my journey.
After I hung up the phone my first response was fury. I was ranting to myself out loud. "He did NOT just say that!" A stream of explicatives poured out of my mouth. I wanted to break things. I wanted to punch holes in walls...anything to make this stop.
But yet I knew. I *knew* all along. On the way to the MRI the previous day I asked my gut if I had this. My gut...who is never wrong said...yes.
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