Miss to Mrs. to MS

It's amazing how quickly a year goes by. There are moments that creep, stretches of a week or a month that seem like they'll never end, but then suddenly it's New Year's Eve and once again we're welcoming a new end-digit to the 'date' portion of our medical paperwork.  Just over a week ago I hit the 1 year mark since my diagnosis. Even now I pause as I think of how to describe that day; celebrated 1 year? Mourned the 1 year mark? The day itself didn't feel like anything monumental that I needed to mark; there were so many more significant days that happened since the last February 6th, both medically and otherwise. In the last year I've seen 3 neurologists, had 6 MRIs, gone on steroids 3 times, completed my first 2 rounds of Ocrevus, gotten prism glasses, and started an incredibly helpful baclofen routine. I've also completed an elite professional training program, started my dream job, moved to a whole new state, and bought my first home wi

I think one of the most overlooked aspects of MS is the cognitive challenges. Everyone wants to talk about mobility limitations, physical symptoms, medication, you name it, but somehow our brain power often gets left behind despite MS being a disease that is essentially targeting exactly that: your brain. Looking back I think cognitive issues were one of my first symptoms or red flags. I was always your stereotypical bookworm/grade-obsessed, straight-A student through high school and mostly throughout college. I could remember my entire academic to-do list of studying and assignments along with all of my extracurricular and social activities without ever cracking open a planner or organizer. I studied well, but didn't need to study much because I was fortunate enough to have a great memory for things in the academic realm. I could remember the names of people I had met only briefly or years prior; I could remember exactly what I wore on any given day of the week and could describe

It's strange to think it's been 6 months  since I got my diagnosis of RRMS. Somehow that  day in February feels like yesterday and ages ago all at the same time. Time somehow finds a way to move so much differently when you have a chronic illness; there are days where you feel miserable that seem to never end, while there are days where you feel healthy and normal  that are gone in a flash. Then there's those lucky spans where you're nearly symptom free or at least feeling good for a few weeks at a time if you're so fortunate, and you look back when they come to a close and realize just how long you were able to coast along as if back in your old life, your "old" body, your old world. My dad made brief references to these strange sensations of time throughout his battle with cancer and I never really understood what he was talking about, but now - now I get it.  I've learned a lot about myself in the last six months living with ~diagnosed~ MS. (Lord

I've taken a bit of a hiatus because life got crazy - fortunately not MS-related crazy, but crazy nonetheless! I've been thinking the last week or so about a comment that was made to me last week; it was made totally innocently, but has lingered on my mind: "All you healthy young people don't need the more extensive and expensive insurance coverage!" This comment came from a well-meaning woman at an insurance fair for my new job where we were all scrambling around to learn about what plans and insurance companies were available to us through the company; she absolutely meant no harm by it, in fact she really was trying to save me money by ensuring that "healthy people" would be just fine with the $237 a month plan as opposed to the $553 a month plan.  Now when she said this, I actually almost laughed. "Healthy" is a word so far in my rearview mirror, and yet to her I looked like the picture of health standing in front of her in my bus

Firsts: one of the scariest parts of MS. Whether it's your first MRI, your first neurologist appointment, your first relapse, your first round of steroids, your first MS hug, your first bout of severe pain, or any first experience of the other mysterious symptoms that tend to pop up for those of us with MS, firsts can be scary and overwhelming. The good news? You aren't the first . I've found that to be a comforting sentiment; when I experience a first, I turn to the endless number of resources and people online who have likely had this first before - maybe even had their second, third, fourth, or tenth round of whatever I'm experiencing for the first time.  I think my hardest first with MS was the MRI's; not only were they my first MRI's of my head and spine and therefore the first times I had to be entirely inside the MRI machine - ankles and knees are much easier - but they were also accompanied by the uncertainty of "is it MS or is it not?"

Should I tell people I have MS? Who should I tell? When should I tell people? Do I have to tell people? Who can I trust with this information? This might be one of the hardest initial steps to take on following diagnosis: who and when and how do you tell people if you even do. When I was diagnosed, I knew right off the bat I wasn't going to be secretive about it; I totally and completely respect people who choose to keep this news to themselves or a few very close confidants. This situation has to be tailored to you and what you need, what you're comfortable with, and what and who is going to make you feel safe. Unfortunately, even if I had wanted to keep my diagnosis private my symptoms weren't allowing for that. I had been struggling with nausea and vision issues to a level that it had been impacting my social life and ability to carry on my life normally for months leading up to my diagnosis; many of my friends and most of my family was already very aware somethin