The Awful Neurological Diagnosis

 

After years of experiencing those illusive symptoms I started to feel like a hypochondriac.  After all, my doctor knew I was only seeking attention, so why shouldn’t I start to realize that my symptoms were mere phantoms.  I had completely stopped mentioning any health difficulty that could not be quantified by myself first.

          

Then came a time when everything changed.  I had an appointment to see my regular general practitioner when an intern was doing preliminary examinations for my own doctor.  As I was talking to the intern she actually witnessed me experiencing the lighting bolts of pain.  There was no ignoring or disguising the pain I felt at that time.  It was so sudden and so very, very intense.  She explained to me that this was called trigeminal neuralgia which involves a malfunction of one of the major facial nerves.

 

The intern had taken a class on MS the day before and was eager to practice what she had learned.  After a thorough examination she reported what she had observed to my doctor.  I was then referred to a neurologist.  Just like that, I was finally seeing a neurologist.  I did not realize until years later that I could have requested an appointment with a neurologist and my GP would have had to refer me.  (At least in Canada, I am not sure how things are done in other countries.  In Canada we cannot see a specialist unless we are referred by our GPs.)

 

On the first visit with the neurologist he calmly said, “Yes, you probably have MS, but I want to do some simple tests first.”  One of these tests was a Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI), the other test is a Spinal Tap.

 

 

The Day of Discovery

 

The day I found out that I had MS was a gray, dismal day.   The neurologist walked into the examination room, perched on the edge of his desk, slapped my chart down, and said, “You have MS”. 

 

After a lengthy stunned pause he continued, “There is nothing I can do for you unless you have $17,000 a year to spend on medicine!”  He allowed a short pause before he asked, “Do you have that amount of money?”  I numbly answered in the negative.  He stood up and walked out; flippantly and callously, saying, “Have a good day.”

 

I was numb with shock.  I made my way to the waiting room and my daughter was. We left.  To her question of the diagnosis, I numbly replied, “Yes, I have MS”. 

 

When we got to the street the sky had opened up and the rain was pouring down.  We had several blocks to walk.  I started  crying.  We were both very quiet, with our own private thoughts. 

 

Nature plastered us with drenching water, running down our faces.  No one on the street, even noticed that I was crying.  After a few block I started to pray.  I gave myself, and my MS, completely over to the care of God. 

 

By the time we got to the car I knew that God was in control and my life could be very good, even with MS.  I wasn’t relieved.  I wasn’t accepting.  I wasn’t understanding.  But, I did know that I didn’t have to do this alone.

 

To many, I may appear to be healthy.  I may appear to have no difficulty with balance, vision, speech, muscle spasms, tremors, cognitive abilities, or fatigue.  Many do not see the emotional and physical pains that I experience because of MS.  MS is not always a visible disease. 

 

For most MS patients, MS is a:  silent, invisible, chronic, progressive, sometimes devastating disease.  MS can attack any part of the central nervous system, including: the brain, spinal cord, and optic nerve.  It is believed that our body’s immune system is attacking itself.

 

 

Bonnie