Support

My Friends and Family are my biggest support
because they aren't afraid to make fun of me.

When I attended the support groups and free dinners provided by the pharmaceutical companies, I learned two major things: First - drug companies definitely have a shit ton of expendable income. Every dinner was catered with stuffed chicken breasts, pasta buffets, fillet mignons, and a wide assortment of delicious truffles and parfaits. It made me hope that Multiple Sclerosis and Diabetes are mutually exclusive. I suppose, as long as my insurance company is fronting about $1,000 per month for these drugs, Pfizer at least owes me a chocolate covered cherry and a steak, right?

The second thing I learned, apart from finding out which patients were closely interested in the advances in Medical Marijuana Research (though, their Grateful Dead T-shirts would usually identify them the moment I walked through the door), was how scared and alone people can feel when dealing with this disease. The problem with diseases like MS is that, often times, the symptoms have no visible side effects to a third party. My most common little episodes usually include partial blindness, numbness, and balance/coordination issues. None of these symptoms can be easily seen by an onlooker so they can be easily dismissed as melodrama by employers, friends, and the single mom making my tall skim vanilla chai latte as she rolls her eyes at me because I'm having difficulty picking the quarter she carelessly slung at me up off the counter on account of having no feeling in my left thumb.

Luckily for me, my closest entourage understands this disease as well as anyone who isn't currently going through it can. When I encounter a difficult situation, my best defense mechanism is comedy. I treat this disease like a joke and those around me do as well. While this method may not work for everyone, it allows me to talk easily with my peers about what is happening without making anyone feel overly uncomfortable and, thus, causing my number one fear to become a reality - an awkward silence.

I made reference in my last post to my reaction when I first received my diagnosis.

"Getting diagnosed was one of the most difficult things I have ever gone through. Now, I don't mean that receiving the news was emotionally devastating and made me want to curl up in to a dark corner and cry by myself for the weekend. No - I actually mean the process was more difficult than a job application for Google."

The truth is, some people actually did want to curl up in to a dark corner and cry by themselves for the weekend. During the first year of my diagnosis, it was suggested that I attend support groups specifically targeted toward newly diagnosed patients. Again, I found myself the youngest person in the room and felt like, though we all shared one thing in common, no one's story was anything like mine. People talked about receiving the news from their doctor as though it was a death sentence. They described in detail the horror they felt as their Neurologist explained that they have an incurable disease and that modern medicine still doesn't fully understand it.

I'm not sure why,  but not a single one of those thoughts went through my head when I got my diagnosis. The only real information I took away from that meeting was:

• Finally someone can tell me what the hell is wrong with me.
• Good. This disease isn't contagious 
• While there is currently no cure, there are effective treatments
• Multiple Sclerosis doesn't kill you

I don't think of my self as an overly optimistic person; as you can probably tell by now, I'm actually quite cynical. When I sat there and listened to these people dredge on and on about how they felt like their life was over, I realized they were going to be of absolutely no benefit to me. Where were all the people who wrote their bikes 45 miles to prove that they still had mobility? Where were the people I saw on TV pulling the Boeing 747 with their bare hands because MS didn't take their lives away? These were the people I connected with. I wasn't a victim, I was simply afflicted by an unfortunate turn of events. At least it wasn't AIDs or Cancer. At least I didn't have to worry about infecting my friends. How could people be so upset about this news. On the long list of incurable diseases, Multiple Sclerosis is the one I would pick every time.

My biggest form of support comes from my wonderful girlfriend, Cassandra. She has come to understand the effects of my disease better than anyone else I know. She has come with me to neurology meetings, MRIs, free vacations in the white mountains sponsored by the MS Society, and free dinners put on by the drug companies. She's such a trooper. She understands that, some day, this disease will probably get the best of me and has stuck by my side regardless. It is such a comfort to know that I have someone to experience this all with who actually understands it. She doesn't break down in tears and fear the worst every time I get a tingle in my hands; she usually says something like "well, that's what you get for dancing like an idiot for 30 minutes without drinking water." She understands that there is a fine line between taking something seriously and making a joke of it. She gets it. She is my biggest support because she knows how to make fun of me.