Diagnosed with MS in 2005
The disease paid no attention to her life or her dreams. It chose her anyway.
Doctors found three lesions on her brain, another on her spinal cord. She held her breath, waited for a diagnosis. The good news finally came: It’s not cancer. But then the bad: It’s multiple sclerosis.
Family and friends smothered her with hugs. Held her tight. Told her everything was going to be alright. But she could tell they didn’t really believe it. They choked back tears when they talked to her. She caught somebody whispering condolences in her mother’s ear.
I’m not dying, she thought. Or am I?
Life changed fast. She’d always hated needles. The long, sharp pieces of metal piercing her skin. The quick, sharp pain. It made her shiver just to think about them. But now they’d always be a part of her life.
She opted for the medication that required the fewest injections. It was silly, she knew. But this was her life; she’d deal with MS on her own terms.
Her mother helped give her the shots. And they worked. She no longer felt like the walking dead. She had energy.
Doctors did another MRI. She held her breath. The lesions on her brain had…shrunk.
She knew she wasn’t out of the woods. Never would be. But she’d keep getting the shots. So what if they sometimes bruised her? Gave her headaches and chills that made her bones feel like ice?
Consider the alternative.
Now she’s 24. Finished college. Married. Working hard to make a career.
She knows that MS doesn’t care. That her disease will not sleep forever. But she’s made a choice. A decision not to live in fear. She’s chosen to embrace hope.