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Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Diagnosis, Schmiagnosis

This is my brain. All the white spots are lesions...that's MS.
Two weeks ago today I received the shock of my life—I have MS.

Of course, I freaked out. I broke down and cried in the doctor's office and in the lobby of the doctor's building. I cried in Whole Foods while talking with my sister. I cried and drove. I wept on the phone to my daughter. I prayed and sobbed. I laid in bed and wept. Woke up, went to my knees and cried some more. But, I refused to let anyone else see me feel sorry for myself. I don't want to be perceived as anything but strong.

I am strong.

But, I cry. I come from a long line of criers. Most of my siblings and my parents cry easily. We're not a bunch of babies, we're just sensitive. I'm a sympathy cryer. If I even sense someone is on the verge of tears, I well up.

This crying has been different.

I'm in mourning for the life I thought I was going to have. I don't want to be considered sick. I'm crying for doing this to my family. Could I have prevented it? I cried for the scary stuff all the MS patients told me they've been through while I was getting steroid infusions. I don't want that life!

I fought so hard to overcome adrenal fatigue. I have been so good at eating right, taking supplements, exercising and doing everything possible to be healthy. It doesn't feel fair that I have to fight this stupid MS for life!

I am fierce and I will fight.

I won't be labeled: "She's the woman with MS...she used to be so active, poor thing." I don't want people to treat me differently, look at me differently or exclude me from things because they think I shouldn't or couldn't.

One friend told me she saw me carrying my four-year-old child and was mad that I wasn't "taking it easy." That just made me angry. I will carry my child until I absolutely can't. I don't want to be told what I can't do.

I can.

I may have MS, but MS doesn't have me.


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