Archive for category Living with MS

My application was approved!  

The last several months I’ve dreaded doing my MS drug treatment injections.  Dreaded.  As in I will wait AVOID and wait AVOID some more until I cannot AVOID it any longer on my injection days and have to make-up my mind to just do my darn shot.  8000 daily injections (some days two) in 16 years might have that effect.  Despite nurses coming out to my home and observing my shot routines and trying new shot depths for the injection device, I could not get injection site swelling reactions to cease or even diminish so my injection sites were finally limited to my hips and tummy, where it’s less painful because ultimately and consistently, I still need my medication.  Six weeks ago, we saw my neurologist, asked a lot of questions based on our research of available non-injection drug treatments and I realized my tolerance is high for drugs that could potentially kill me, versus low for drug treatments that could cause me nausea.  I actually find that very amusing.  

The thing is all MS drug treatments have that little disclaimer that they might cause death, but that number is so low and related to patients who already had other issues going on.  So when all this dread began a while back, we started praying about a new drug option.  Our faith is not in a drug, but that God will allow the drug to be the vehicle that improves my disease status.  As we started praying for doors to be opened with this treatment, but clearly shut if this was not something to pursue, the doors opened quickly and have remained open, which answered our question, but I began doubting because everything was falling in to place, too fast, in my opinion.  

Then, God asked if I would doubt his provision of the opportunity for which we prayed…   I felt convicted and finally my husband shared that he’d been praying for the doors tobe wide open or nailed shut.  After our research, we definitely leaned toward a particular drug, but lacked the needed funding.  It’s expensive.  Why are chronic disease treatment meds so stinking expensive?  I’ll tell you why.  Because drug companies make way more money treating a “no-cure-in-sight” chronic illness than to patent any available disease management improving treatments.  The drug that I’ve been pursuing is not a cure, but a disease-altering method of disease management.  Many of the individuals who have taken the drug were at a bad place disease-wise where this drug was their final hope and this drug delivered for them.   
For now, I’ll start making a list of all the symptoms that I hope and pray will diminish or disappear as a result of this treatment and keep doing my now three-times-per-week shots because I’ve been approved and funded for this new treatment.  With the end in-sight, I’ve developed short-timers and am anxious for this new treatment chapter to begin.  Treatment will begin sometime in the next few weeks at which point, I’ll name the drug and all the little details that go with it.   

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Our world has been sufficiently rocked.

No, really.  Two months into the new year – by the way – tangent warning, I really hate resolutions – read last new year’s entry rant why I have never made a resolution because if I want to make changes, I just do it and do not require a calendar date to keep a countdown, keep me motivated or keep me accountable, etc.  What I did do was make a commitment to myself to become active again in addition to my existing regimen of weights and stationary biking.  I swam competitively through high school and college, but recently determined I’d do something different and start running. Because I could.  For years, I’ve been scared to try because of that whole stint in a wheelchair for five years, but got over myself and tried to run and guess what?!  I did.  My husband has always been my biggest and best cheerleader and talked me into being fitted for proper running shoes based on the correct support for our surrounding terrain.  I did get fitted, then researched price, ordered and as an added benefit, those running shoes are even the colors of my Seahawks!  Yay for me and GO HAWKS!!  But the colors were never even a real consideration.  So those new running shoes arrived and I initially wore them at the gym on the treadmill, assessed and was confident that I could in fact run.  I mapped out my running route in the neighborhood to start the following day and then God ripped the carpet from under me and said, “Jenn, I have other plans for you” when we received an unexpected call later that evening.

You might recall a previous post about a year ago that I finally shared with my husband the snapshots that I’d seen for the prior twelve plus months.  Remember?  After I shared that little tid-bit of info, B essentially sat me at the table with a bright light shining on me to question me and determine how serious I was,then after the FBI- style interrogation, he determined I was on the up and up because that’s how completely unexpected it was for B to hear me mention, “Well maybe we’re still here because we’re supposed to adopt a child.”  Eleven years ago, after the failed attempt to adopt a baby from China, when a year into the process we were declined to adopt because of my MS, the subject of children in our own home had become the topic of which we no longer spoke.  So imagine how unexpected the suggestion nearly a decade later…

As Christians we seek God’s will and pray for God’s prompting for major decisions, but with my ‘epiphany’ we were even more resolved to make sure that this vision was really from the Almighty.  The weeks following the ‘interrogation’ were filled with prayer and research and then in July 2015, we began the 10-week journey to become licensed for foster to adopt through the state.  In addition to a plethora of info, we obtained CPR/First Aid certifications,  reinstalled the pool-fencing, had two home-studies, installed the necessary magnet locks and fire-extinguishers, obtained a crib and the path was smooth-sailing, confirming yet another answer that what we were doing was indeed, God-led.

However, what had become disappointing after completing the class and list of tasks was the continued delay of getting licensed since our social worker had estimated that would happen before the new year, but we did not hear a thing for weeks later.  One of our class members had set up a closed social networking group that was created for our training class only.  Many of our class-members posted pictures of their newly acquired foster munchkins.  I may be kind of sort of admitting that the green monster had more than likely, undeniably and most definitely bit me.  Hard.  I’m blessed to have a spiritually strong husband with excellent discernment.  Most of the time I operate on logic, but there was nothing about this situation that ever spoke logic, so that overwhelming left-brain-ness went right impulsively emotional on me.  B helped me realize that the green monster’s name was “Obama” when I had this sense of missing out on my fair share, but once again my wise husband pointed out that this entire process was about stretching our faith in God’s timing by not taking control where those control-freak tendencies might have in the past.

Back to that unexpected call…  Our licensing social worker finally called in February that the center had received a baby.  A baby!?!  A baby.  A baby was never on my radar because those visions were always of a toddler.  But what then came to me was that our licensing SW said in class was that “adoption may not happen with your first placement…,” but I also thought this could be good experience for both of us.  B had those same thoughts, called the case worker, we asked many questions, after which we prayed and determined we’d pick-up that baby the following morning.   Talk about a world-rocking situation…   Most people have nine months to prepare for a newborn.  You know that whole thing of what to expect when you’re pregnant?  We had 12 hours.  But, here we are weeks later, very much operating as ships-passing-in-the night-zombie-mode, if that is a real condition.  We are sleep-deprived starved and ‘conversations’ have become limited to Neanderthal-like grunts and groans of exhaustion.  Lord, I apologize to any Neanderthals out there who read blogs, let alone have the wherewithal to take offense at my very tired sense of humor.

Next you might read about the monopoly of over-priced “Baby” targeted gear.

Read the rest of this entry »

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It is well with my soul

I love the newer version of this old hymn and God has continued to use this song to keep me and my thoughts in-check because at times, and I’ll be honest, I’ve gone from zero negativity to Defcon Red in milliseconds, for which there is really no valid reason.  Those reasons have been ridiculous and those worries have been entirely unfounded.  The “what if?” game and I have been on again, off again roommates and I still have to work at kicking-out the unwanted guest when they attempt to argue, sit down and makes themselves at home for an extended stay as they readily rehash what’s wrong in my life, when all I must do is counter-hash everything that is right.  Here is Matt Redman’s version of “It Is Well With My Soul.”

I have been so very blessed!  In 2001 my MS was on a fast-track quickly retrogressing and I became dependent upon using a wheelchair full-time.  2015 marks 10 years since I regained feeling in my legs, was healed and able to again walk and not require the assistance of a wheelchair.  Thank you, Lord.  

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My Dad was diagnosed with cancer a little over a year ago in 2014.  With each quarterly exam, the cancer was confirmed with the understanding that because it was a slow-growing cancer, nothing was an emergency, but it would need to be monitored.  My Dad’s quarterly cancer check-up and biopsy in June came back, “No cancer.”  As in with all the many many samples they extracted, there was NO TRACE of it.  Thank you, Lord.

Our oldest kitty Thor, died at end of April- just a couple of months ago.  He was with us 18 years and he lived a pretty long and happy life filled with chasing string and consistent purrs.  We adopted Thor shortly after B and I married.  Our youngest kitty, Zephyr was diagnosed with kidney stones last winter and because of the process of going under the knife, we’ve hesitated to get him the surgery.  With our loss of Thor, the Lord knew we needed some comfort and allowed Zephyr to be instrumental in providing that with lots of loves and cuddles as we mourned, but we remained worried that his condition would also take him from us too soon.  Zephyr is now stone-free. Thank you, Lord.

My husband had a bad cough for about a year and the doctor said it was fine.  It went away and then the cough started again and I kept reminding B to go to his doctor to see what was going on.  They did a full exam and also ran an x-ray this time around.  The x-ray was clear and everything is absolutely fine with his lungs except that the doc put him on an allergy regimen and now that painful cough is almost completely gone.  Thank you, Lord.

I doubt that there are any other Christians out there who have ever been able to relate to being control-freaks or worrying excessively.  What?  You might resemble being controlling?  You worry about stuff too?  Then you can relate…  I guess that somehow I believed in my very misguided perception is that if I worried needlessly about anything big or small, that things will get better or something ridiculous like that.  I am thankful that God has a plan and that through my worries, He’s waited patiently for me to step-back, give him those reigns for my inner control-freak extraordinaire and just let him be God.  It’s a process and I am an active work-in-progress with needing to remind myself daily that, “‘He’s got this, Jenn.”  It’s very silly the amount of control that I perceive I have.  I believe that the above situations served for no other purpose than to get my faith on-track.  But then, it may not be all about me, so perhaps my perspective is selfish in that the listed situations were to grow my faith, when those also could have also served to grow my husband’s faith, my Dad faith, my Mom’s faith and / or my Sister’s faith…

As B and I have again felt led to pursue adoption, our faith has very much been stretched.  It’s far from ideal circumstances since we’re older and have less money than the first time we attempted to adopt in ’07, but God’s bigger.  We’ve been called to just be obedient to his guidance.  He’s bigger than our perceived ideal circumstances and we have questions, but more than anything, we must trust in him.

Relinquishing control is not easy, but I’m confident that considering my own life is just a little blip on God’s screen, that He can see all things past, present and future and that there is a Divine purpose for him allowing you or me or any other person to go through anything.  Those situations are either good or bad character building or faith building.

What are you made of?  Do you struggle with doubt?  What kind of situations have challenged your own faith?

Jenn

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Filterless: an act of failing to use courtesy or common sense in conversation

I’ve missed writing the last few weeks, but my absence gave me a much-needed opportunity to reevaluate my blog as I’ve continued reading several that I follow.  Most blogs are treated as an appropriate means of communicating information, ideas or suggestions, recipes, life, or health challenges, etc. and I want to applaud those who successfully maintain their blogs with consistent posts and varied topics. The past weeks I’ve been discouraged, unmotivated to write and actively trying to understand what has been pressing on me about my blog.  When something is unclear or “bugging” me, I address it in prayer and ask God to reveal to me whatever “it” is and God will often cause me to think of something in a direction where my mind was not even going or cause me to recognize something about myself or something I should pray for family or friends in the midst of my daily activities.   I was focused on blogging about MS, but it’s obvious I must steer this in another direction because I want to be a source of encouragement, but there is only so much I can address without sounding like “Debbie Downer,” so now I’ll add life observations, situations, challenges how my faith makes a difference in approaching those factors.      

In reading other blogs, I have a concern with reader responses and more specifically blog-following individuals who fail to use or recognize their pre-existing Common Sense Filter prior to responding to a blogger’s post.  A friend’s blog addressed her struggles with her children who both have autism and somehow a reader thought they had the “right” to stand in superior judgement of why it’s my friend’s fault that her kids have autism.  Really?  Yes.  This foolish person had the audacity to blame my friend for her children’s autism, but it was humbling to see this “expert” had the time to preach and condemn my friend!  My hope is that last statement in Italics reeked of my second language, sarcasm, in which I am exceptionally fluent and when life provides a plethora of material for me to work with, it’d be a shame to waste my “gift.”  

To the autism expert, if my friend is that lacking in your obviously perfected level of parenting autistic children, you might consider offering helpful suggestions rather than judgement.  In John 8, Jesus sees a massive crowd looking to stone a woman for adultery and the crowd is essentially waiting for Jesus’s permission to begin stoning the woman, when instead, he says to the crowd who are ready with rocks in hand, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.”   The crowd dispersed and when only the woman and Jesus remained, He said to her, “Neither will I condemn you.  Go and sin no more.”  


The parallel is that it is so easy for strangers like you to anonymously respond and judge, without any clue as to how life could be living with any number of life-altering conditions like autism.  Please consider that parenting is challenging enough on its own, so I can only imagine how even more challenging to add a disability to the equation and then also challenging are hecklers like you only screaming, “You’re doing it wrong!!,” instead of offering helpful guidance.  Parenting is an ongoing learning process.  Remember the saying, “You catch flies better with honey than vinegar.”  Perhaps in the future, you should research, write a draft but don’t post it, read it a day or two later, take your own inventory and reflect on whether the immaturity, judgmental and hurtful rhetoric was necessary opposed to the help that you clearly failed to convey.  I suspect, during that time of reflection, your eyes may be opened and that is where the Common Sense Filter kicks in and instead of posting another harshly inappropriate response, you hit delete. 

I hope that you recognize your response to my friend was unquestionably out of line.  That said, I’ve finally arrived at my point for this post about grace, which is to show mercy, favor.  God shows us grace on a daily basis and because of that, I believe that you responded emotionally, instead of rationally.  That is grace.  You did nothing to offend me personally, but because I saw that there was that missing element of common sense for you, I hope you’ll apologize to my friend, although forgiveness actually requires no confession from you in order for her to forgive you.  My prayer is that she will forgive and never give your actions another thought.  Grace.   The exercise of love, kindness, mercy or serve another.  


I had an experience at a party.  An individual asked me a question that ranked in tackiness up there with, “How much money do you make?”  I was shocked that they obviously felt like the question was appropriate to ask a stranger, let alone okay to ask at all.  There was zero hesitation or “filter” on their part.  The next morning, as I considered the question, I was reminded of another experience while in our home-town, in a small group.  I was a stranger in a group of believers.  Being new, I shared my testimony.  Testimonies are personal and are never debatable because they are so personal and involve personal experiences or events that ultimately lead individuals to make the choice to follow Christ.   

One individual saw my testimony as opportunity to anoint themselves as my judge and jury.  The individual was immature and even more immature in their  faith.  Not one person questioned them when sharing their own testimony that included failed marriage, but apparently like myself, there are many who value their Common Sense Filters that may prevent them from saying something inappropriate.   I forgave the individual’s ignorance, but I’m ashamed to admit that nearly ten years later with the recent situation and being asked such a personal question, I felt on the defensive.  I replied, “Enough.”   That feeling was from the enemy because I had no reason to feel protective or defensive.  However, the individual accepted the enemy’s temptation to be a nosy-Nellie and I gave them grace.  The following morning, I told my husband what this person asked and my husband said, “That was very inappropriate, but that’s where we have to give them grace.”   I am in no way patting myself on the back because I am also a work in progress on the road of following Christ.  Instead of responding to them in an equally rude way, I gave the person grace in a brief response, but have also kept them consistently in prayer because the individual is immature, but more important, they are a newer believer and my actions may be influential.  Grace.     

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Cats + Dogs = MS Therapy

I’ll attempt to explain how much my little soldiers have provided such an extraordinarily high level of support throughout my battle with the MonSter.  My husband had his dog Ima when we married and I wanted a cat, so we made an agreement that when we bought a house, I would find a cat.  Within a few days of moving into our home, our cat (who I named Goliath) was featured in the local newspaper as a pet of the week with the humane society.  Ima and Goliath began our “collection” of domestic pets in 1997, but the following photo comprises Team Anderson Christmas ’12:

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We were at our first home for four years, where our brood grew to four male cats and two female dogs.  It was September 2001 when we purchased our next home, from my now late Grandparents.  It was bigger and it was equipped with Air-Conditioning, something we came to discover was going to be necessary in order for me to function at optimum performance  (at least during summer) with MS.  The new home also came with a large garden window in which all the boys loved to perch where they had a very clear view of wildlife entertainment.  Our suburban “wildlife” was a variety of birds, the backyard Koi pond and an abundance of squirrels found in the several massive Evergreen trees in the neighborhood.

While MS was becoming an issue at work, my husband had quietly begun the task of obtaining information for the filing for disability.  He was more proactive than I was with that because he stood back and observed while I began recognizing that the number of “good” days at work were diminishing, and then further recognized that my remaining active days at work were limited.  At night after work, I had mentioned that I might consider resigning from the credit union.  My direct manager and the HR manager were already aware that I have MS, so my husband and I developed a tentative exit strategy while I was still gainfully employed so that I could obtain what I believed would be “short-term disability-pay.”

My last day at work was during mid-October.  That day, I got settled at my desk for my day, but I had a bad feeling and felt, “off” while I fought mentally for the next hour while I analyzed my WIP loan files (Works-In-Progress).  I tried to work while I determined if I should go home for the day and when I didn’t locate my manager, I sent her an email explaining I needed to leave and would see her tomorrow.  I was a silly girl for being so optimistic because I woke the next day with vertigo and slowly made my way to the family room where I parked myself on the sofa and equipped myself with my Bible, a notebook and the TV remote on the off-chance I could pay attention for longer than five seconds.

I always found it amusing how much all of our house pets were attuned to my health, like when earlier in the year, our area experienced an earthquake, but long before it occurred, I woke with severe vertigo and called in to work that I would not make it in that day.  The day of the earthquake, I was also lying on the sofa surrounded either on the sofa or close-by on the floor, by our brood, when about seven minutes before the actual earth quake, the pups both started pacing/running back and forth from the front of the house to the back and the cats who were awake became skittish.  At work the next day, everyone thought I knew of the impending earthquake.  I am not now, nor have I ever been clairvoyant.  However, as our bodies are 75% water, I believe that the pending earthquake shook-up my equilibrium during my sleep cycle and caused me to wake with vertigo.

The many days with vertigo were always made easier by the cuddling and unconditional loves provided by the company of one of our brood of creatures.  If you haven’t experienced such relationships, head to the Humane Society where a loving critter, who is anxious to find a “forever-family,” is available.  Almost 17 years of marriage and we’ve adopted 11 critters, two of whom were in the original clan of pets.  The loss a family member is always difficult and people sometimes forget that pets are part of our family.  In nearly two decades, we’ve said good-bye to five pets due to terminal illness.  The cost of pet care isn’t the issue, but the consideration of pets not being able to understand why the people who are supposed to care for them allow them to be poked and prodded by needles for IV’s, is something that  my husband and I see as inhumane.  That is our personal conviction.  The loss never becomes easier, although, with time, our thankfulness that God allowed us to temporarily become “parents” for one of his individual creations is a tremendous blessing.  Pets are never alike, but they become whatever their environment allows and one thing has become excessively clear that all of the creatures in our brood are indulged with an abundance of love, care and play.  If it isn’t clear upon how friendly they are when meeting them and the assumption that all strangers are provided for their amusement, then the delicate softness of the pads of their feet shall affirm everything.

If you don’t have a four-legged critter and do not have any allergies that allergy-shots can help control, then please consider locating and taking a jaunt to your local ASPCA shelter:  http://www.aspca.org/adopt/shelters

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MS retrogression…

When the second exacerbation occurred in ’97, my neurologist wrote the prescription for my first CRAB MonSter treatment.  Those of you in the know, understand the acronym CRAB stands for Copaxone, Rebif, Avonex, Betaseron and my Neurologist prescribed Avonex.  The idea of a weekly injection was inconvenient because I was determined to fight this MonSter on my own, but because of the administration of the drug and its side-effects, it became a couple’s issue.  Avonex was designed as an intramuscular injection, therefore, the needle was longer and thicker for going directly  into the muscle.  

Among the onset of symptoms with the exacerbation, was a slight tremor.  I was right-handed and of course, this tremor affected only my right hand. The tremor-like symptom has forced me over the years to become ambidextrous, but at the time, doing the injection for myself was not an option. The tremor did not play nice, nor did it allow me to accurately inject and by default, my husband’s steady hand made more sense for completing the weekly ritual.  Avonex resources were “dialed-in” and provided us with drug prep training and administration training so that both of us were entirely comfortable with the whole Avonex process before we were ready to inject on our own.  

God bless my husband for embracing the training and practicing the process until he was ready to inject that (what appeared to me at the time was a 14 inch) needle.  Realistically, it was only a couple inches long, but injecting something into a loved-one that would ultimately cause pain was very different than going into the doctor’s office for a routine, but somewhat impersonal flu-shot, for example.  Because of the tremor, I had to resign myself to allowing my husband to be my care-partner, which was something I have embraced over the years, but at the time, felt as though my independence was being ripped away from me, without my permission and happened way too early since I was only 23 years old.   

The first couple of solo injections were supervised to ensure nothing was overlooked.  In 15 years of medications, praise God that there has not been even a hiccup.  I switched from Avonex in Spring of ’01, but the ritual went like this:  we washed our hands, my husband swabbed the vial of liquid with alcohol, extracted the liquid with the syringe and injected it into the other vial to dissolve the pill-like substance of Avonex from its original form, I bared one of my hips in the mirror, marked a spot with a crescent-like nail imprint, cleaned the spot with alcohol, waited for the alcohol to dry and my mind greatly increased the length of the needle and syringe.  Truthfully, it was not excessively long when he injected the Avonex.  

With the knowledge that Avonex was an interferon drug and was prone to offer flu-like symptoms, we determined that the injection should be Friday night so that I might sleep through the flu-like side-effects and wake Saturday morning, ready to tackle the remainder of the weekend with whatever we had planned.  But God, in his desire to make me slow down said, “Not so Fast, Missy.”  The lesson was:


The whole thing was the first of many lessons over the years that God used to teach me to recognize that I must be flexible, for myself as well as for family and friends. The flu-like symptoms rendered me useless for several hours.  In the beginning, I fought the symptoms, but in my stubbornness, I made myself worse for not allowing myself to take the much-needed rest that God was trying to show me was mandatory in order for me to improve.  It took a few years, but the situation was the beginning of many lessons in the realization that nothing I did would ever control the outcome of anything, especially that of my MS’s debilitating status. 

 

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Beginning MS

The symptoms that led up to my diagnosis in October ’94 were short-lived as they lasted only a several weeks and subsided before winter in December.  That first glimpse of MS was minor in comparison with the diversified MS related issues I experienced later and will address in future posts.    

In ’94, stress was not something that I controlled successfully, but the following several months were uneventful and then ’96 was a fantastic year because late August, I met my husband. During early dating, he shared some news about a childhood friend who was diagnosed with MS and as I had not yet shared my own diagnosis, I determined God presented the opportunity and I utilized it.  I related my situation and his reaction could not have been more ambiguous, which I mentally assumed indicated I would not hear from him again, which was fine as I liked him, but there were no deep feelings involved and I was content with my job at the bank. 


God had other plans because we continued dating and then within only weeks of my “MS news,” he became more serious.  I still was not convinced that he was settled with my news and I declined his proposal six weeks into our courtship.  (My Mom’s cousins who are sisters both have MS and I did not know the older sister well, but the family was aware of her husband’s reputation prior to her MS complications related passing), so in my mind, I was protecting myself from future hurt.   I explained this to soon-to-be-husband and also that because of MS, I was afraid to have children so I would not be in his way to have a family.  He was a tad upset when he explained that he fell in love with me because of my strength, my faith and my sense of humor.  He also explained that he didn’t want to marry MS, but he wanted to, “Marry a beautiful woman, who happened to have MS.”  [Everyone sigh, “Awww!”]  And proposal attempt number two was accepted.  


He planned the wedding and reception.  No, he did not suggest anything like beer-pong or peanuts on the reception tables, but before he planned anything he asked if I would rather have a house or a big wedding.  Duh!  A house!  So we chose to do a small wedding with only family in attendance and bought a house six months later.  I was relieved of wedding planning stress, but buying our first house brought on MS flare-up number two during July 1997.  I saw my neurologist shortly after moving and he prescribed my first interferon drug for injection.  

Stress-induced symptoms had returned with numbness replaying the role of Symptom Leader, prior to and during our move with moving day being the worst.  Moving in 80 degree heat was challenging enough, but what I discovered further into summer is that heat is fine, but it was the humidity component on moving day that had changed everything.  I can function well in 80 degree heat and single digit humidity.  Less than 40% humidity presented hiccups in my strength and coordination, but exceed 75% and I am rendered useless so praise God for air-conditioning!  




Not everyone with MS has the same experience so there is a massive learning curve for all of us MS patients.  In trying various treatments, I discovered MS is entirely individual because what worked for others was not successful for me.  I mentioned earlier that just like varying symptoms, there are several treatment options, which will also be addressed in future posts.  

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Diagnosis

We relocated to Nevada in 2011. My husband moved in February for a job and after our home sold, I arrived mid-April.  After relocating hundreds of miles, I determined, my rig needed a tune-up.  As a woman of faith, I believe God places people in our paths for a number of opportunities and the auto-shop presented friendship. My soon-to-be-friend, (I’ll call her D) was in the shop’s waiting room and we talked about everything from weather to health. 

D shared she was in a battle to obtain an MS diagnosis because her non-conclusive test-results were delaying potential disease treatment.  I shared that from the start of being symptomatic through all my own appointments, I thankfully obtained my MS diagnosis in less than a month at 20.  My age is relevant because almost twenty years-ago, some “specialists” had an age hang-up.  “Because twenty-something’s are not diagnosed with MS.”  

 

I’m thankful that both my first neurologist and second opinion neurologist’s diagnoses were consistent.  D, who is my age, began having symptoms a couple of years ago and has yet to receive a definitive diagnosis since the lumbar-puncture and MRI were “non-conclusive.”  My new PCP referred me to a neurologist, whom she was seeing for her own MS symptoms.  And DH was already seeing that same neurologist.  And D also shares my faith.  And we’re the same age.
 
That situation was obviously orchestrated by God for D and I to become friends.  I was new in Nevada and D is a kindred-spirit who is in an unknown state of health, but could use somewhat of a “guide” through navigating the waters of understanding her symptoms, emotional turmoil and ensuring that her battles are “normal.” 

I am privileged to know D and I pray that as a nearly two decade seasoned veteran of the disease that I will be an effective source for guidance and support. 

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MS is Interesting

I was a blogger about three years ago, but I felt like I was just another boring blogger who mused about boring and irrelevant nonsense and thus, eliminated the boring blog.  At the prompting of my husband, I am going to resume sharing my story, but this time, more openly as far as all the ups, the downs, the emotions, the struggles and results of living with the day to day battles of the neurological disease, Multiple Sclerosis.  I want to inspire people.

In October 1994, two years out of high school and only weeks following the traumatic death of a friend, the numbness and tingling in my right side extremities began.  Unbeknownst to me at the time, my Mom – who honestly should have an honorary medical degree, is exceptionally wise.  She consistently and accurately diagnosed my sister Jackie and I with conditions from the flu to hypochondria while we grew-up and our Mom was understandably alarmed about my symptoms and contacted my doctor about her concerns.  She was not meddling, but because she was aware of the similar warning signs that resulted in her two cousins MS diagnoses years prior, she desired to ensure that my doctor referred me to the most appropriate specialist.  

Following the relapsing-remitting diagnosis, the next few years were uneventful, but Spring of ’01 brought on the onset of reoccurring symptoms.  Those inconsistent and unpredictable indicators taking up residency resulted in me labeling Multiple Sclerosis the MonSter.  Through this blog, I will share my own MS struggles and experiences, combined with my victories and my hope is that I encourage others who are both new to and or seasoned veterans of this MS battle.

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