Our wonderful neice lost her battle with galloping MS but your beautiful words J.M.C. reminded me of what she wrote on learning of her dx...


"And you thought pMS was bad....

It's been a week and a day since I was told the preliminary diagnosis.
M.S.
It sounds like some ironic payback for radical feminist ideals
But it's Multiple Sclerosis.
A name which still appears to be spelled wrong, no matter how many time I write it.

It's a label laced with doomfilled images of wheelchairs and dependency.
A pair of words that conjurs up loss and grief and so many fears I am unable
to name them all.

And yet after having devoured two rather comprehensive books on the subject; turning 35 years of my personal life perspective around,
and weighing my words with the dozen or so friends I've shared the news with..
I find that despite an understandable case of shell shock,
I'm actually in pretty good shape. Whatever that may mean from moment to moment.

No one who loves me enough to be honest will tell you that I am anything other than a control freak.
So it cannot be anything less than a humbling experience to now find myself linked inexorably with a disease that, if nothing else , is known for its unpredictable nature.

Right now I am numb from my chest down.
Though I have regained some feeling in my thighs.
My feet and fingers burn with the simple exertions of walking, standing and
writing.
Tomorrow I may be fine.
Tomorrow I may not be able to walk.

This is a test. This is only a test of your central nervous system.
If this were an actual emergency you would be instructed to...
What? Panic?

The M.S. and I are partners now. It may, if I am lucky enough to go into a long remission, become a silent partner. But it's here with me.
I feel the need to be introduced.
I crave some opportunity for influence with this interloper.
But this is where my journey really begins.

This is where I meet myself in the loss of control.
This is where the mystical quality we call strength solidifies into something
positive and I get to built my character some more. Oh goodie.
Is this also where I get to throw dishes?

Pamela Ogden Sparks Novenber 28, 1997


**************

Hope springs eternal, but she ran out of time.