No one really knows for sure where Aunt Marge comes from or why. Is it hereditary? Well, there are over 30 genetic factors linked to it. My daughter, Jacqueline, recently caught a glimpse of the headlines on a London newspaper announcing the recent discovery of several more genetic links. Looking back through my family history, we know of at least three women with M.S. Strike One.
A person with these genetic factors would seem to be more likely to develop M.S., especially if they lived in the northwest part of the U.S. This is believed to be due to the lack of sunshine and therefore low vitamin D exposure before the age of 12. Records show that cases of M.S. are nearly non-existent as you get closer to the equator. I was raised in Banks, OR which is about 25 miles west of Portland...the land of grey skies. Strike Two.
Having another auto-immune disease, such as Celiac Disease, increases your chances of having M.S. Strike Three and please pass the rice cakes.
Multiple Sclerosis earns its name from the many scars that form as the body attacks its own myelin covered nerves. This causes pain, fatigue, numbness, spasms and a variety of other symptoms as the body fights harder to send messages from the Central Nervous System. As in real estate, my doctor says that it's a matter of "location, location, location." A lesion or scar in one area of the brain may cause more cognitive impairment versus a lesion on the lower spinal cord which may cause leg spasms or even immobility. Because of this, no two patients with M.S. will be alike. One of the most common areas of attack is the optic nerve which results in blurred, double and even lack of vision. This can come and go like most symptoms of M.S. You may not know how you will feel from one hour to the next which makes life quite an adventure. Many symptoms are triggered by heat. The doctor recommended that I purchase a cooling vest to wear outside this summer. Maybe next year. And maybe I will have to bedazzle it. It's very "subtractive", as we say in our home.
Coming soon to a computer near you: Lesson Two...The Many Faces of Aunt Marge..including the ones you can't see.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Never Go to Bed Angry
They say there is power in positive thinking. I believe that. I also believe that there is power in accepting reality and the possibilities therein. There is no question that life WILL be unpredictable and challenging. It's not a matter of IF it's a matter of WHEN and HOW. Many times WHY doesn't even fit into the equation. It just IS. We live in an imperfect world. But, thankfully, we have a perfect God who can use each day and situation for good.
A few days after my diagnosis, unaware of the news traveling outside my family, I walked into an evening activity at the school. Though my mind (and legs) seemed to be in a fog, I stepped carefully and confidently through the crowd. A friend suddenly stood facing me. She grabbed both of my shoulders and scanned my eyes with her own, looking deeply, searching for something. She said, "Colleen, I'm so sorry. Are you ok? Are you angry?" That last word hung awkwardly in the air. I felt my mind studying it. What was it even doing there? I couldn't make sense of it. Who was I supposed to be angry at? Anger usually stems from fear. Well, I can't deny that I struggle with that here and there. But, it is also related to frustration. Frustration comes with unmet expectation. What did I expect from this life? The moment I was born, I cried because I didn't get what I wanted when I wanted it. I laugh because life is so surprising, strange, punny and ironic. I wonder and kneel because life can be so much more. Expectation. You can't live in it...you can't live outside of it. I wouldn't say that I'm "angry".
Honestly, I try to fight thoughts of living in a wheelchair. That might not be the hand I'm dealt. But, it might be. So, what? My shoes won't wear out so fast. And I am going to buy amazing shoes. I might even bedazzle them. I might wear six inch heels..just because that's the only way I can. I might drape a new and beautiful tapestry across the back of my seat every day. Or, I might walk with a cane. No, an old fashioned umbrella with ruffles along the edges. No, a walking stick carved by one of my husband's Cherokee ancestors. This is the fun I try to have with my thoughts. I'm not saying it always happens this way. Other times, when I am just too tired, I let myself think about all the stairs in my house, all the times I have to get in and out of the car every day, how expensive it would be to get an electric lift installed in our pool, the laundry....o.k. that COULD get really frustrating. Maybe I will get angry.
I try to accept that even IF...my life will still be what it has always been...a beautiful disaster. I love that phrase. It reminds my of my daughter's 4th grade science experiment. We learned how light reflects, seperates and bends through the rain. My life has this light that shines down through my storms, my brokenness and then it divides into all these surprising colors and leaves an awesome arch over the whole thing. And at the end, there is not a pot of gold, but a street of gold that stretches on forever...and I can WALK on it.
A few days after my diagnosis, unaware of the news traveling outside my family, I walked into an evening activity at the school. Though my mind (and legs) seemed to be in a fog, I stepped carefully and confidently through the crowd. A friend suddenly stood facing me. She grabbed both of my shoulders and scanned my eyes with her own, looking deeply, searching for something. She said, "Colleen, I'm so sorry. Are you ok? Are you angry?" That last word hung awkwardly in the air. I felt my mind studying it. What was it even doing there? I couldn't make sense of it. Who was I supposed to be angry at? Anger usually stems from fear. Well, I can't deny that I struggle with that here and there. But, it is also related to frustration. Frustration comes with unmet expectation. What did I expect from this life? The moment I was born, I cried because I didn't get what I wanted when I wanted it. I laugh because life is so surprising, strange, punny and ironic. I wonder and kneel because life can be so much more. Expectation. You can't live in it...you can't live outside of it. I wouldn't say that I'm "angry".
Honestly, I try to fight thoughts of living in a wheelchair. That might not be the hand I'm dealt. But, it might be. So, what? My shoes won't wear out so fast. And I am going to buy amazing shoes. I might even bedazzle them. I might wear six inch heels..just because that's the only way I can. I might drape a new and beautiful tapestry across the back of my seat every day. Or, I might walk with a cane. No, an old fashioned umbrella with ruffles along the edges. No, a walking stick carved by one of my husband's Cherokee ancestors. This is the fun I try to have with my thoughts. I'm not saying it always happens this way. Other times, when I am just too tired, I let myself think about all the stairs in my house, all the times I have to get in and out of the car every day, how expensive it would be to get an electric lift installed in our pool, the laundry....o.k. that COULD get really frustrating. Maybe I will get angry.
I try to accept that even IF...my life will still be what it has always been...a beautiful disaster. I love that phrase. It reminds my of my daughter's 4th grade science experiment. We learned how light reflects, seperates and bends through the rain. My life has this light that shines down through my storms, my brokenness and then it divides into all these surprising colors and leaves an awesome arch over the whole thing. And at the end, there is not a pot of gold, but a street of gold that stretches on forever...and I can WALK on it.
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