I went yesterday to have my fitness form signed. I walked all the way to the GPs, which’s the furthest I’ve walked since getting ill. I was proud of myself, but I also felt dead, I let my GP know this as soon as I walked in his office. He wasn’t impressed. I gave him my intensely persuasive speech with a forced smile in between every sentence. He was a good listener, strangely emotionless and he didn’t budge or interrupt me once.
But when I finished he started his speech. He reminded me that I have tests, he pulled out my files and went through my case history of such bad relapses I had fits and temporary paralysis – basically telling me that if I still have the receipt I should take my brain back for a full refund and not even bother to exchange as the store must only stock faulty goods. I was on no medication and if anything happened to me he was liable.
Then just to rub it in he reminded me that most people with MS die young. He crossed his arms “ I cannot, and will not sign the form “. Just as quickly as his past negative response had spurred me on to prove him wrong, his repeat rejection had spurred me to give up. I was heartbroken. I thanked him and excused myself before he could see the tears welling up. I hobbled down the corridor where 5 seconds later he caught up with me, the flood barriers had already broken. He apologised and told me if wanted to talk about it I could come back anytime. The patients in the waiting room must have thought he just told me I had a month to live the way I was sobbing! In a similar way he had just crushed my world, but I knew he was genuine as his eyes were red and he fled before I could see them water.
I didn’t know why I ever bothered. Why do I even bother to get up in the morning and try to have a normal life as possible. Why do I try to do things to make myself happier when in the end it was just a waste? I go on everyday filling my time doing things that I can do that pleases me, I don’t complain ever about my aches or pains. I pretend everything is ok when its really isn’t, but what’s hard is believing everything is ok when it really isn’t. Its easy for the people around me to see this and let me get on with things, but what normal people don’t realise is just how much hard work this is. I give myself compliments on how well I’ve handled my situation so far, the sad thing is only I know how hard its been for me.
So why do I continue this way? Because isn’t it what you’re supposed to do? Fight the illness, stay positive, and all the other half-arse advice friends and relatives give you. Coz if I didn’t do this I would be giving up. What angers me the most is when I try too hard and cross this imaginary line MS has made, then I’m reminded who’s boss. It isn’t fair.
My boyfriend, having made clear how he feels about me skydiving, went ahead and did something he wanted to do that I was very unhappy about. But he doesn’t need anyone’s consent to do this, he does what he likes. And now his heart is so set on this thing, nothing will change his mind. I angrily envy him and it’s not his fault, yet I’m convinced that my life is harder and I deserve more happiness.
Does MS really mean you can’t have this simple privilege of being happy? But life isn’t fair. Why did I get MS and not my sister? I look at her now and I can’t imagine her going through this. She worries about how thick her eyelashes are when my alopecia has cost me a softball size bald patch at the side of my head.
I know this is an angry rant. It takes an average of 5 years for someone to come to terms with a disease like MS. I’ve been diagnosed less than a year and ill for two and I’m only 20. No matter age or experience, I think we all have a right to be angry and sad in between fighting for our life back.