So here I am, perusing the Sunday Times, ready to focus on Obama’s screw-ups on healthcare and House Republican meltdowns of the moment. Anything but my blog. Then I turn a page. Never turn a page in s newspaper when you want a day off. Leave well enough alone. The stupid blog was asleep, and I wanted to join it, in separate beds, of course. But I cannot escape MS, in my life or on page A18 of my hometown newspaper. Damn.
Katie Comodore, an artist, has lost vision in her left eye. She believes it is a tumor pressing against her optic nerve and looks forward to a glass eye. Right. I pause and diagnose Katie with multiple sclerosis in an instant. A no-brainer. She goes blind in the eye. Surprise. I have been at this too long.
Vision returns. The article says Katie would have preferred a diagnosis of cancer, why is not clear, maybe with its clean. more reliable recovery. There is a leap of faith. MS means a long trip wearing blinders. MS sucks, actually, as Katie will soon learn. No cure there, no boundaries, and the fire doors are locked. Cancer is no treat, either. Pick your poison.
Katie and her family have coped with MS for more than five years. I want to say, try forty. Except they may know and have mastered the magic I have not. What do I know? This is a new era for MS-niks. It is the jigsaw puzzle that confounds. Katie has been diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease also, a debilitating assault on the bowel. MS is all over my family. So is Crohn’s. The puzzle pieces fit tightly.
“There are a lot of people that don’t take the diagnosis well and fall into despair.” Ms. Commodore told the Times. She was awarded monies to pay for a personal trainer. Katie is okay for now, but writers and reporters focus on the moment. MS is not a sprint but a marathon. God bless Katie. She has her act together but has a thousand miles to travel.
I am an old dog but ready to learn new tricks. Seniority counts for nothing with MS. I have ne tenure. Feel free to fire me whenever.