While We're Young

I won't be live-blogging this one from the hospital, because every time I start to talk about it, I cry like a giant baby.  Plus, there is an insanely cute nurse on my rotation this morning... let's keep it cool, here, right?

As of right now, I'm waiting to go get a swallowing test.  I've done so many of these in my lifetime of MS.  Basically, they put you up against an x-ray machine and watch you eat radioactive food.  The doctors are able to see the way you swallow because everything in your mouth and throat looks likes Superman's gourds.   Doctors are believing the reason I get chronic pneumonia so much is the fact I'm not swallowing my foods right and the food is going down the wrong tube.  I could potentially die from this.

My MRI's came back, as well.  My brain is riddled with new lesions, as well as old lesions.  It's safe to say, my MS isn't getting any better.  My loving readers, my MS has been upgraded to Progressive.


For some reason, this hospitalization was different.  I've lost count over so many times, but I took a life at my, at my choices and I got this deep, dark sinking feeling that I've been wasting away the years of my health to... well, nothing.  As if I've been chasing my tail and getting absolutely nowhere.  I've had quite a few chances over the last few months to move, but I knew it would be a bad idea with maybe the worst roommates ever.  Now that I'm not on a lease living by myself and I'm taking a break from school, what a better time than now to make a run for it?

I'm happy, but I know I'm not giving it my all.  Whether it's plain laziness or fear of failure, goddammit, I will give this attempt 110% effort.

I was sinking right back into the place I tried to run from in my early 20's.  I didn't tell people I was sick.  I didn't tell friends I was in the hospital.  I didn't care -- this fight was my own to fight.  I have no right to be angry at others for it

After talks, and when I say "talks" - I mean crying blubs of mess - with my parents... they came to my help.  And after more talks with friends, I knew it would be a done deal by the 3rd night in the hospital at 2 a.m. looking at schools to transfer to, essays to write and check-lists to be done.

I never believed in running away from your problems.  I've always felt they'd come right back to haunt you if you conquer them in the first place.  However,  feel like me and Philly have ended our love affair a long time ago.  Like I've told the folks the other night; "I want to live somewhere no one knows I'm sick.  I want to be given a second chance in life like any normal girl should."



I think I at least deserve that.  I want the ability to live a life I haven't yet while I'm still young.

What Is Multiple Sclerosis? For MS Awareness Month

There are currently 2.1 million people living with Multiple Sclerosis.

Every hour of every day in the United States, someone is diagnosed with MS.

The likelihood you know someone with MS...

Your co-worker, your neighbor

Your friend, your family

Yourself

Someone you love and care about is living with Multiple Sclerosis.

What is MS?

MS is an unpredictable, devastating and often disabling disease of the central nervous system.

It interrupts the flow of information within the brain, and between the brain and body.

Imagine it as a telephone line -- your brain is calling your body on the telephone, but it takes a few tries for the call to get through fast enough, and for some, the call never goes through. 

Imagine all of the times your foot, leg, hand or arms have fallen asleep.  Now try using those extremities.   That's how it feels to us with MS.


And you know that intense pins and needles feeling when your foot or arm starts to regain feeling, but you are overwhelmed with a painful pins and needles sensation?  That's the pain we feel all of the time.

Most people are diagnosed in their 20's and 30's.

But MS lasts a lifetime.

And there is no cure.

MS disrupts people's lives.  MS affects people's careers.  

MS eats away at the brain and body.  We are walking expiration dates.

MS disconnects you from the people you most love and care about.

MS impacts friendships and relationships.

MS takes things we don't want to give.

Like the ability to hang out with friends.

Or play with our kids.

And future grandchildren.

Or the ability to maintain a successful career.

Or even get dressed on our own.

MS can get worse.  Or it could get better.

Some people have relapse-remitting,

which means their MS comes and goes, but always remains the same.

Some people (like me) have secondary-progressive,

which means MS comes and goes, but progressively gets worse as time goes on.

And some people have progressive MS,

which means their MS never goes away, and symptoms continually devastate the body.

You can't always see MS, but trust me, it's there.

Did you know women get it more frequently than men?

Unfortunately, when men are diagnosed, their MS is more progressive.

Children can even be diagnosed with MS.

Someone you know is living with MS,

RIGHT NOW.

You may have MS and not even know it yet.

Even though some have symptoms, a diagnosis could take hours or years.

8: The number of available treatments for MS.

$28 Billion:  The cost of MS on the U.S. economy.

$2, 681: The average cost of Copaxone per month; the number one used injection to treat MS.

$49, 000:  How much it costs a median household living with MS every year.

10:  The number of years is takes for the average person living with MS to leave the workforce.

You,

Everyone you know,

Need to use your voices to get the word out.

IT IMPACTS US ALL.

Together we can raise awareness.

The Night My Heart Broke

I used to write motivational quotes on the board every morning.

I have a story to tell. But there is one I need to talk about first because it was the scariest moment of my life.

My mom was on her way to visit me, so I decided to take a nap. Taking a nap in a hospital is near to impossible. Everyone and their mother come in every 15 minutes; vital signs, doctors, visitors, nurses, EVERYONE! However, it was a Saturday, so I was safe to take a nap for about 2 hours while I waited for my mom to come.

I remember hearing her walk into the room. I tried to wake up but I couldn’t. Feeling very drowsy, I just could not open my eyes. I knew something was wrong, so I pressed the nurse call button.

“What the hell did they give you, Natalie?!” my mom freaked.

I could barely lift my head. My mother ran out of the room. I could hear her screaming for help and I felt like I was slipping away. My heart was beating out of my chest, I was sweating and I almost felt like I was dying. I say “almost” because I obviously never died before.

When you are in the hospital as often as I am, you learn the codes they announce over the loud speaker pretty quickly. Code grey: violence. Code blue: death. Rapid response: pre-code blue. And there was the announcement for me:

“Rapid response to 3 North rehab! Rapid response to 3 North rehab!”

Before I knew it, the crash cart, which is a giant blue cart that helps revive people close to death (like paddles) was in my room. They were setting up an IV in my arm quicker than you can say, “uh-oh”. And 20 people were in the room, all in my face, “Natalie?!” “Natalie are you with us?” “Natalie, do you know where you are?”

“Her heart rate is 168 and rising!”

And black. I don’t remember anything else.

The last thing I remember was my mother’s face on my right; looking at me as if it would be the last time she would see me alive.

Then I felt the strangest feeling… my hands, feet and legs felt hot. At one point, I had to check if I peed myself because my body was so warm. It was the life (or blood) coming back into my body. They had injected something called Nitro. It is given to people going through heart failure. It took a few hours for me to “come to it” but I made it out!

Here are some pictures from that night & day after (in no particular order)…


















Me two days later...

The Key To Change Is To Let Go Of Fear

“For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else.” -- Ralph Waldo Emerson

I’m staying the night at my parent’s house. Hearing them sleeping, feeling their comfort of having their daughter safe at home brings pleasure like eating a fresh baked cookie.
When I see them, I don’t just see parents, I see my lifeline and my strength in form. I would not be where I am today without them. When all was lost, when all was lonely, my parents were there. And I will return the favor for them. (My mother plans on writing a post for my blog, fyi!)

I don’t feel old – I feel matured. No longer “dating”, I am holding out for someone worth my time. It’s time to settle down and find someone worthy of what I have inside me. I have a lot to give. In easier words; a mature relationship. I no longer feel the need to fit in or mold myself to please others. People come and go, but the few I have are priceless. Friendship is no longer about competition, jealousy or drama. Revenge is no longer about getting someone “back”, but rather letting it go. It does not deserve the effort.

Love has a new feeling, a new definition. Love is absolutely beautiful. There is a world of endless possibility. There is no such thing as a leader, but a partnership. Not even the best scientist in the world could define that deep connection between two people. Seeing my parents is like Christmas morning. Hearing my best friend Monica on the phone always makes my day better.

I also don’t feel disabled. Having been in a wheelchair has given me patience, newfound happiness and a softer landing for being let down. When you are at your lowest of low points, there is no way to go but up. I know I have a disease that has no cure, but life is life and it doesn’t define who I am. Some of the strongest people I’ve had the pleasure to meet have disabilities. They are an amazing group of people – you all are.

10 Men

"Nurses - one of the few blessings of being ill." -- Sara Moss-Wolfe

My stay at Our Lady Of Lourdes was pleasant all due to the nurses.

One woman, G, was a single mother working hard to make ends meet. She was very religious, but the kind who wasn’t pushy and made it very endearing. Comforting my mother every other night, G also sat with me in my room to watch television – her favorite, Dancing With the Stars. In the midst of my stay, G gave me a bracelet. The bracelet has wooden squares each connected on a band. The squares are beautifully painted with religious icons.
“Someone needs to watch over you while we aren’t here, honey.”

The woman who ran the nurse department in rehab was very close with me. Instead of taking breaks in the cafeteria, she would sit in my room with a tray, prop up a chair and watch American Idol. We would talk about my friends, about life, about everything and anything that didn’t have to do with Multiple Sclerosis. She told me that I was such a great patient to have; all of the nurses would try to schedule their shifts to be on my part of the floor.
Though, my favorite was K. She was a free agent from the south, lending a hand at the hospital for a few weeks. The second time into my rehab, it was my darkest and hopeless stay. One night, I wheeled my chair out into the hallway to get “air” and she asked me how I was. Breaking down into tears, I told her God was punishing me, which this was my entire fault for things I’ve done. My family was suffering because of me. My future was up in the air; all I wanted to do was go back to college.

“You prove those doctors wrong, ya hear? I know you got the strength of 10 men in there,” she said as she comforted me at the nurse’s station.
“I want you to go to bed tonight with a dry eye, wake up in the mornin’ and think of all the wonderful things you can do with your life.”

Even though I left the hospital still in a wheelchair, I began planning my future – chair or no chair. I would help others, go back to college, respect my family and stop with the self-loathing.

Happy (belated) nurse appreciation.

UPDATE
This post is now printed out and hanging at the nurses' station. Thanks gals!

Fitter Happier

“Look into the depths of your own soul and learn first to know yourself, then you will understand why this illness was bound to come upon you and perhaps you will thenceforth avoid falling ill.” Sigmund Freud

The size of your house, the amount of clothes, the number of friends, the thickness of your wallet, the design of your car – these all do not matter.
Rich is the love and support from family, the true blue of friendship, the self-confidence and respect for yourself, and the ability to live and learn from experience.

Things, material or otherwise, are not worth having without the effort of achieving them. Things, are much more sweeter when blood, sweat and tears have been put forth towards having things.

Waiting for things to happen is the equivalent to counting the hours of each day. Instead, make each hours of that day count. Make them memorable and worthy of being framed and hammered into a wall, so you will be able to look back and say “I’ve been there, done that and I had a fantastic time doing it.”

Stop being in a constant state of unconsciousness.

What NOT To Say With Someone Diagnosed With MS

...but you don't look sick.

...but everyone gets tired.

...maybe you are just having a bad day.

...are you drunk?!

...I wish I had time to take naps.

...only if you'd get out more.

...try to get more exercise!

...you don't know what pain really is.

...it can't be that bad, right?

...maybe it is all in your head!

...you're just stressed out.

...you're just depressed.

...I didn't invite you out because I thought you wouldn't be up for it.

...I stopped calling because I thought maybe you needed time alone.

...at least you have your health. (I love that one. Keep saying it to me and you won't have YOUR health!)

...just tough it out!

...at least you're not dying.



...like all things, this too, shall pass.

Welcome To Your Life

“Something is different about you, Natalie,” my mother and father say almost on a daily basis.

I feel different, too. Almost like I woke up one morning and my view on everything had changed.
I’ve been planning my walk for the MS Society in May; handing out brochures, posters and awareness pins. So far, my walking group has reached over our goal of $300. Without my friends and family, I don’t think I would be where I am today, and I am honored to be walking with them.

Feeling the benefits of charity, I have also joined the Big Brothers and Sisters of America. Even though I haven’t been set up with my ‘little sister’ yet (I asked to be paired with a girl who is disabled), I’m excited to be making an impact on youth.

A huge check came in my name last month (I have a job on a hit television show), and I was able to pay off my debts. Instead of going out, buying a dozen pairs of high heels and having a shopping spree, I decided to pay off all my debts. I am happy to announce that I have absolutely no debt.

Watching my best friend Astrid falling for my very good friend Dave is having an affect on me. Why am I still single? I am patient. Not everyone out there is meant for you, but once in awhile, someone comes along and makes your day a little bit better. However, I need to work on myself. I have too much respect for myself to involve myself in any toxic relationships. My focus has been on nothing but school, charity, family and friends. For years, I’ve had problems with relationships. I felt as something was missing, but now I know what it was -- me. I needed to be happy with myself before I could become happy with anyone else.

I’m at the point right now where I am comfortable being with myself and I don’t need a relationship to validate that. After all of the bad dates, crazy boyfriends and not so wonderful friendships, I finally know what true love is -- and I have it within myself.

I feel content. I feel like I've found my purpose.


“There are great things in store for you in your future, Natalie. I feel like your life is just beginning,” my mother said with a smile.

So when I ask my parents, “what is so different about me”, their response is, “you’ve grown up.”


Please donate to our MSWalk group -- we need all of the support we can get.
Donate here!

Walking Expiration Date

Click image for larger size.

Mary Jane

During group, we were asked how we cope with neurological pain.

I’m not going to write a college essay on the benefits of medical marijuana, even though it may read a little like one. However, I’m a strong supporter of using marijuana for Multiple Sclerosis.

Take Ellen, for example. Ellen is a 72-year-old woman in my support group who attends church every Sunday, plays bingo every Wednesday and has 12 grandchildren. Ellen also smokes weed. She’s suffered from pain associated with MS for years now, and she tells me it helps her tremors, symptoms and overall health and happiness.

For thousands of years, human beings have attempted to find ways to get passed the struggles of their lives. With chronic pain stopping people from enjoying simple pleasures, there is an urgent need for help. Marijuana brings millions of people relief from the pain they feel on a day-to-day basis. The THC in marijuana causes its users to experience a mild high. The effect that marijuana has on a person has prevented the product from being legalized.

However, in the state I live in, a bill was passed to legalize medical marijuana (I’m going to have a lot of new friends soon). Bottom line, marijuana alleviates several symptoms associated with MS; I don’t think I could go on with daily living without it.
You don’t necessarily have to SMOKE marijuana… you can bake it, vaporize it and it is also prescribed in pill form.

The headaches, the shakes, and the pain – they all go away, like magic, after a little marijuana. Most importantly, marijuana helps neuropathic pain.

I'm not saying that you will be lounging around all day in a fog, unable to get your tush off the couch. I'm a straight A, Dean's List student on my way to medical school... all the while I'm smoking marijuana.

I feel marijuana is much safer than a drug like Oxycontin, a synthetic form of heroin.

Be open-minded.

In The End, Life Is Stronger Than Death

Went to the doctor today. The reason being was I am having a hard time ingesting food, and I constantly feel as if my gag reflux was checking in some over-time. It was not a neurologist, just my internal medicine doctor. For weeks, I had a horrible case of the hiccups, always choking on food, the thought of eating made me gag even though it smelled delicious and eating has become a chore.

For example, eating hard food felt like it was going down the wrong tube. That is the closest I can compare it to.

It was discomforting (to say the least) to find that my symptoms came back to my MS. I was diagnosed with Dysphagia.

Definition: It seems like swallowing would just be second nature, not something we have to think about in order to do safely. However, swallowing is a complicated process that involves all sorts of muscle coordination and feedback to and from the brain through certain nerves and neural pathways. Multiple sclerosis (MS) can damage any of these nerves as well as the area of the brain responsible for coordinating swallowing, the brain-stem. This can lead to swallowing difficulties, called Dysphagia.

And what does Dyspagia feel like?

- Difficulty chewing

- Coughing while eating or immediately afterwards.

- The need to swallow more than twice.

- Choking sensations.

- Food sticking in the throat.

- Weak, soft voice.

- Feeling that it is hard to swallow food or move it to the back of the mouth.

- Aspiration, meaning food or drink is going down the windpipe into the lungs.

And why I'm in panic mode:

Dysphagia can become so severe that people become dehydrated or malnourished. If the tips for managing swallowing difficulties (such as chewing your food thoroughly and adding thickener to your drinks) don’t work, it may be necessary to use a feeding tube. Aspirated food or liquids can also cause aspiration pneumonia. This is a particularly dangerous lung infection, and it is the number one cause of death in people with MS.

This is what my cousin Johnny passed away from.

My doctor called my neurologist immediately and informed him of my situation. It usually takes a pretty damn long time to get an appointment with a specialist, but in this case, my neurologist made me his first priority on Monday morning.

This could go two ways:

1. I could be admitted into yet another rehab for speech and swallowing therapy. They would want to watch me for the next few days because at the rate I'm losing weight and not eating (or picking at food), the idea of malnutrition was brought up. I would also need a scan and ultrasound of my throat.

2. I could possibly have a nurse come to my home and hook up the IV's again. Also, I would have a therapist come to the home to monitor me.

The thought of going into the hospital does not deter my worry -- the thought of death does.

The Ram

Earlier, I was writing essays for my grad school applications. They were all about my diagnosis with Multiple Sclerosis, but I never gave a proper ending to the story on my blog.

I spent 4 more times in the hospital. This is only counting MS related visits; MS lowers your immune system and creates a whole lot of other hospital visits. With every visit, my faith in the universe dwindled down to the size of a pencil tip. But my last hospital visit was different. A very good friend, Astrid, sat down and said, "you need to fight."

"What the hell do you mean 'you need to fight'?"

"Remember when we were watching Animal Planet and the leopard was attacking the ram and the ram was just giving up? Then at the last minute, the ram just runs the damn thing into the wall and sticks it's horns in it?!", she asks. "You need to be the ram."

I had absolutely no idea what episode she was talking about. Although, I did get what she was trying to say and it made me realize that I was walking in pity of myself. This "woe is me" shit had to go. So I worked my ass off. I felt as if I couldn't live with myself unless I tried enough to accomplish something.

I receive a lot of e-mails asking me how I went from a wheelchair to walking again. There is no special diet. There are no cures with bee stings and snake venom (I'm not kidding, Google it). However, I did push myself every single day to walk, talk and function again. And don't just think your actions will take you far; you have to believe it. You have to believe that your hard work will pay off, that you could make your own happy ending.

Be the ram.

The Size Of The Fight In The Dog

A friend recently told me that is it’s not the size of the dog in the fight; it’s the fight inside the dog. It has been keeping me grounded. (Thank you)

Tonight, I had an invitation to a party where the theme was ‘G’ and I was excited about going. I have a beautiful Geisha costume, some parts original and authentic.
This past week, I’ve been driving to and from class but I’ve noticed that I can feel the pedal, I just don’t know where the pedal begins or ends, so my foots slips off. Or my foot feels so heavy, that I speed up quickly or make short stops. To help myself, I’ve been using a cane while at school; carrying a 20lb book-bag can tire a girl with MS out, but my friends haven’t seen me with a walking device for almost 5 years.

The girls I had plans with have seen me at my worst… at the hospital, during therapy and in a wheelchair. What made me so afraid? When one of my best friends asked when I would be arriving, I spent close to 15 minutes trying to respond whether or not, “should I lie and say I’m sick? Or should I tell the truth and risk friendship?”

My flare up is about a 6 ½ on a scale through 1-10 (10 being back in the chair). It starts off as a pins and needles sensation, like that feeling you get when your foot is just starting to fall asleep. Gradually, the sensation increases as if your leg was full-on asleep, like that moment when you try to gain balance from rising up from your seat and you are having a hard time feeling where your foot lands on the floor. This sensation reaches all the way to my lower breast and it’s all on my right side (which means I must have a lesion on the left side of my brain).

I can easily get treatment. Treatment should take 3-4 days depending on the severity. My flare up started a few weeks ago but I’ve been hesitating calling my neurologist. You see, school is ending and it has been the most difficult semester thus far. I had only 2 weeks left; why stop now? I promised that I would get treatment immediately but there is one thing that bothers me.
The last time I came to my doctor about a flare up, the only symptom was loss of vision. He instantly jumped to the conclusion that I should be admitted into the hospital. After some bargaining, I convinced him to do an at-home treatment where I would be set up with an IV. The steroid IV lasts for 3 days, 3 hours a day and you cannot leave the house because there is a temporary IV in your hand that can’t be exposed. If I came to my doctor now and explained that I’m pretty concerned about my health, I know an at-home treatment would probably be out of the question – I would be hospitalized again.

What gives me hope is that some days are better than others. When I used to have flare ups, they would increasingly become worse by the hour, but this time its been prolonged. What bothers me is that my social life is back to normal, I feel comfortable with my friends, I’m happy – hospitalization would destroy my spirit.

I can never explain how lonely it feels when you are experiencing an exacerbation. You’re basically on your own.
So tonight, instead of the party, I spent hours reading and cutting pictures out of National Geographic magazines from the 1970’s, knitting and painting presents for friends.

What’s different now is that I know I have it in me to fight, like my friend said. Years ago, I had nothing to fight for… my life was transient, unstable and had no direction. Now, I want my Doctorate more than anything, I love my friends, and emotionally I feel calm and stability I’ve never felt before.

Tonight, it made me happy to think that the only problems I have in my life are schoolwork and who to kiss at midnight on New Years Eve. I will never let my MS trump me, I hold the cards and it is my decision how to play them.

Quick Update

I'm having a flare up.

-- My right hand is pins and needles, as if you were sleeping on your arm. The finger tips are 100% numb. Bad for business, bad for work.

-- My right leg has kind of like a jerking/involuntary movement. I am unable to control this movement. Toes draw up, but wiggle when they do. Sometimes the jumping will last all day and some days it will not do it a all. Sometimes it will only jump once or twice a day. When my leg is not trembling, it is painful.

-- Vision is blurry. It's like looking out of uncleaned, smudged glasses.

Visual Reference: Therapy In Bed

[permission]

Sally Sold Seashells By The Seashore

A few months went by since Monica’s visit and I was feeling better than before. That is, until October came and my symptoms were flaring up. However, this time was worse than before. While I was using the computer, everything went blurry. I rubbed my eyes a few times, thinking maybe I had something in them. Two hours go by, and looking through my eyes felt like someone had rubbed Vaseline in them.

“Do you want to go to the hospital?” says a very, concerned mother.
“No way!”

I also didn’t tell them that my legs were numb again and the sensation was moving upward almost every other minute. My symptoms never moved this fast before.

“Mom, I can’t see! I can’t feel my legs!”

My vision was impaired to the point where I couldn’t make out a face. All I could see were colors and outlines. Back in the same hospital I was in the beginning, it was really late at night so the nurses (who knew me by then) paid close attention to me. When you sign up at the ER counter and tell the lady, “hey, I’m going blind!” gets you a fast pass into a room upstairs. Because of the late hour, doctors were not able to run the tests they wanted to. My parents were not allowed upstairs that late, so I was alone for the night. By 3:00 am, I wasn’t so alone; I was rooming with a woman in her 90’s, wide-awake, and watching a Locked-Up marathon on the television pretty loudly.

“Hi kid, whaddya in for?” she croaks.
“I’m going blind,” that’s all I could say without provoking conversation.
“Well damn, ain’t that a shame. God sure plays mean tricks, huh?”

Shortly after our introduction, she fell vast asleep, with the television on. With the combination of the light in the hallway, the television, and Merdie’s extreme snoring, I couldn’t sleep. The next night, Merdie was watching her favorite show, Gray’s Anatomy. She had me cracking up, calling all the actresses sluts and men were better looking in her day. I realized Merdie wasn’t a bad roommate after all. If a nurse took too long to come to the room, she would yell. If I had food I didn’t like, she would have her grandson sneak some in for me. Merdie couldn’t wait to go home. Unfortunately, she died one day while I was getting tests done in another section of the hospital. I would always hope for another roommate like Merdie, snoring or not, she made my situation feel not so bad. But my situation was getting worse. By day four, the majority of my body was feeling pins and needles. I also couldn’t swallow and my speech was slurred. While receiving more and more rounds of steroids, more weight was being put on.

I also got a new roommate. I never knew her name; she slept most of the time and barely spoke. When my roommate did speak, she would cry out for her husband whom been dead. One night, I heard her walking around (which we weren’t allowed to do) inching her way to the bathroom. A few seconds later, CRAASHH! Nurses came running in, bringing my privacy curtain around so I couldn’t see the damage. Through brief openings in my curtains and overhearing their conversation, I found out that she missed the toilet, hitting her head. She had also defecated all over the floor. Now, I feel bad for her, but living in a tiny hospital room with the smell of feces is no Disney World.

Even though my symptoms were getting worse, the hospital transferred me back to the rehab facility I stayed at before for more intense observation. On the good side, I would have my own room, my eyesight was coming back, and the food was amazing there (Our Lady Of Lourdes).

I was welcomed back by a loving staff. This time around was peaceful. I hadn’t come to terms with my diagnosis, but I wanted to feel as comfortable as possible. Even with an additional diagnosis of Secondary Progressive MS, I thought, what else can I do?
At Our Lady Of Lourdes, I wheeled around like a free agent, talking to staff, the older patients, and even doing makeup for them! One staff member gave me regular, awesome massages. A woman across the hall would bake me goodies down in the rehabs kitchen. My father even bought me a mini-DVD player and a few movies to watch. Nights were never alone; staff would sit with me and watch television, DVDs my father brought, or just to talk.

Everything was going fine until I had to start physical therapy. I dreaded it. I couldn’t walk without support. Rehab had some contraption built that look like gymnast bars, so I could walk between them with my hands firmly planted on the bars with my wheelchair behind me in case I fell. I always fell. My knees had officially left the building.
My speech was terrible and so was my eating. All of my food became puréed, and I had to spent hours with a speech therapist. Not only was I literally learning how to walk again, I was learning how to speak again, too.