For those of you who don't know, multiple sclerosis, more commonly referred to as MS, is a disease of the central nervous system that disrupts the flow of information in the brain, and between the brain and body. This often disabling disease causes the immune system to attack the myelin that covers nerve fibers, which can cause communication problems between your brain and the rest of your body.
My mom was diagnosed with MS in August of 2013. I was only fourteen at the time. I remember my parents telling me and my brother about it, trying to get the problem across, but we just didn't understand. Our mom looked fine to us.
What we didn't know was how much our mom was suffering. She was experiencing extreme bouts of fatigue and she lost some of her vision in her left eye, a condition called optic neuritis, which is one of the earliest signs of MS.
That was when treatment started. Since there is no cure for MS, treatment was used to manage symptoms and slow the progression of the disease. The first treatment my mom tried was injections. She had to use an auto-injector every morning and inject medicine into her body. For the life of me, I don't know how she did it. I couldn't imagine sticking a needle into my own body.
As time progressed, it was noticed by her doctors that the treatment wasn't working. My mom then moved onto Plan B, oral medications. I remember seeing my moms pill organizer sitting on the bathroom counter; she had to use one because she was taking too many medications to keep track of.
Just recently, a brand new treatment option has come out. My mom now has infusions as a form of treatment. She goes once every six months and receives treatment through an I.V., similar to chemotherapy. She has only had one so far, but her next one is rapidly approaching. I hope for her sake that they work.
Mom, I'm sorry that we didn't really understand your diagnosis at first. I know your symptoms aren't visible, but that doesn't make them any less real. I think sometimes we even forgot that you were sick. You always managed to put on a brave face for all of us, and I can't thank you enough for that. But I know now that you need us sometimes too, and we need to be there for you.
I think about you and your disease every day, especially being away at college. I wonder how you're doing at home, 250 miles away, and I wish I could be there with you. Just know that even though I'm not there, I'm constantly thinking of you. I hope I can be as brave and as strong as you one day.
