Two weeks ago, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. I went to the ER after I fell trying to get to my son one morning
, and they did a CT scan, which led to a neurologist’s appointment, which led to KRIs and a lumbar puncture and blood draw after blood draw – all culminating in a diagnosis of MS due to the lesions on the white matter of my brain.
Initially, the positives of my diagnosis included ruling out mini-stroke and cancer – essentially untreatable – and knowing why I was often off-balance, and experiencing site-specific paralysis. Now I have been prescribed a tested interferon-b drug (Refib), and I feel like the rug has been jerked out from under me, and rolled up around me. You can’t breastfeed or get pregnant on an interferon drug without running the risk of harming the child, or losing the fetus. I have been successfully breastfeeding my son for 8 months, and now I’m told I have to stop immediately before I start my therapy.
My in-laws mean well, but do all they can to whisk my child away from me at every juncture, especially to church. Don’t get me wrong: I like our church, and I appreciate the impact of raising a child from early on with a solid moral foundation. But I don’t think it’s my church’s job to introduce or reinforce it. Church is not perfect, because its full of people, most of whom mean well, but generally end up using church and “fellowship” as an excuse for gossip and snark. It is my job to parent my child, not “the village.”
I’m not exactly thrilled about jabbing myself three times a week, ir being on lifetime therapy. I am looking forward to regaining full use of my left aem and leg, clear vision in both eyes, the ability to drive on my own again.
Yes. I have MS, but it does not have me.