Hellobee

I have had a difficult time processing my diagnosis.

At my onset, I was physically very unwell. I couldn’t… function. I couldn’t walk on my own. I couldn’t come up with words I wanted to use. I slurred. I felt like I was going to fall out of chairs. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t use my computer mouse. I couldn’t use my adding machine because it was on the right side of my desk. I had to get rid of all (which wasn’t many) of my heels because I could barely walk in flats. I couldn’t read books for fun. I couldn’t take laundry to my basement to wash it, or back up the stairs to fold it. I couldn’t walk stairs period. I couldn’t drive and drink coffee at the same time.

After physical therapy and several months on my medication, I started to feel like a person again. I started pushing myself to achieve. I walked three miles. Then I had to see if I could do four. Then ten. Then 15. I got a bike, and I went one mile, then five, then ten, and then I attempted 50. I rented a stand up paddle board to see if I could do it. I had to make all the bread, see all the places, do all the things.

And for a while, I think it was good for me. Until it wasn’t. I was proving to myself so much that I was still alive, that I wasn’t actually processing my new reality, and if you have any experience with a chronic illness, you know, your body won’t let you forget the new demands.

I started taking an anti-anxiety medication when I was diagnosed because I was literally so scared of everything. And it helped for some time, but I got to a point where it just didn’t. I was unable to deal with regular life. I was short tempered and snappy. I couldn’t deal with normal everyday conversation. I was constantly exhausted. It took me a while, but I finally realized that I needed help again when I cried four days in a row. That might be normal for a lot of women, but I am the least emotional woman I know. Four days in a row of crying for me is so unheard of. So, I went back to the doctor. She adjusted the anti-anxiety medicine I was already taking, and also gave me a list of potential counselors to see.

And that’s what I did. I started counseling, because there are so many ways I hadn’t accepted that I do have, and will always have, a chronic illness. I will never be “normal” again. I can achieve all of the things in the world, but I will always achieve things with MS. Never without it. And that hurt me a lot. I’ve never been sick before where I was actually still sick when I felt better.

This is my second try at counseling. The first time… didn’t work out. Shortly after being diagnosed, I was in the emergency room, and the nurse told me that I wasn’t sick, I was depressed. Which even at the time, I didn’t believe. I made an appointment with a counselor though, because it was something I hadn’t tried. And that counselor just was not a good fit. The counselor I tried then was an transracial adoptive father, and I don’t know if you know it or not, but we live in Northeastern Indiana, and it’s not all that common here. I went to see him seeking help for adjusting to MS, but the conversation kept trending toward transracial parenting, which is fine, but it wasn’t my main focus at the time.

A few months ago, my OBGYN gave me a list of potential counselors to try, and I really pored over the list. I went through websites and read bios and there was just no one who really gave me the feeling of not wasting time and money. I decided to contact my neurologist’s office to see if they knew of anyone who specialized in MS or chronic illness, and they did. They didn’t have any past recommendations for this person, but they had contact information and said that if I were willing to try her, they would love to hear what I thought so they could recommend her to other patients.

So I did. And at least a thousand times before my first appointment, I talked myself out of going. I mean really, I didn’t need counseling. It was just sitting around talking to someone else and I’m already so exhausted from talking. And then the rational part of me kicked in and said “if you’re scared, you definitely have to go.” And honestly, ignoring my flight instinct is probably the best thing I’ve done for myself in two years. I am now seeing my counselor every other week, and each time I go I think, “yeah, I’m probably close to done, what else can we possibly discuss?” and every single time something mind-blowing is said and I have all new things to consider.

I know the word “meditation” causes involuntary eye rolling, because I only halfheartedly believed in it before I started counseling. And to be fair, when I try to outside of my counselor’s office, I almost immediately fall asleep. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this, but I do have significant nerve pain and it is 100% debilitating (can’t walk, think, talk, do anything except cry). She has been teaching me ways to deal with the pain in ways I hadn’t considered before. We are working on managing anxiety. And I think the most surprising part for me, is that it isn’t an interview each time I go. I’m not being grilled on symptoms, medication, physical feelings, like a doctor would. I don’t go in feeling guilty because I’ve done something wrong. It’s a place where I leave feeling refreshed and excited. And in my case, I usually have a post-it note of things to Google because I can’t remember anything, so she writes it down for me.

Maybe the most significant thing she has done, was encourage and empower me to get a medical bracelet. I have known for quite some time that I needed one. Probably from the first time I fainted. But I’ve been so stubborn about getting one that I’ve made so many excuses for not needing one, until I was in her office the afternoon of the same day I had such extreme pain in the morning that I couldn’t function. She pointed out that I should have a rescue plan in place for instances like this. And she was right. So when I got back to my desk that day, I ordered one. I’m getting used to it now, but there was a lot of pride in the fact that I didn’t have one. The invisibility of MS is my best friend and my worst enemy.

If you’ve tried counseling and had a bad experience, please, try again. It has made a world of difference in my life.