It is with eyes full of tears and a heart full of gratitude that I write this letter.
I am a 35-year-old mom of two children, Jason and Jocelyn. When they were born, I was working while pursuing a degree in business administration. However, when my youngest was about six months old, I was taking her for a walk when my legs began to feel heavy and I fell. I began a two-year journey of testing and seeing specialists, with no answers until I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2012. I knew my children were growing up. They were so full of life and I felt like my life was being sucked from me one nerve cell at a time...
One ruler. One hand sanitizer.One blue toothbrush. About a dozen finance and management books.
Various key chains.91 cents…
It’s not often you stop to truly take stock of your current job, but that’s what happened in the Fall of 2011 when multiple sclerosis unceremoniously ended my career. There were no retirement parties, goodbye emails or farewell meetings. It’s almost as if I disappeared mysteriously into the night.
Not long after my title shifted from “Director” to “Long-Term Disabled” I received two large boxes in the mail from my former employer. In each was an assortment of odds and ends that had been in my work space. Day after day, I was surrounded by these things…
From the very beginning of the Unspeakable Bits blog, I have written from the premise that information is the counter to fear. I believe that wholeheartedly, and while it is sometimes difficult to face ugly facts about living with multiple sclerosis, I’d rather look at them than hide from them.
One of the most difficult aspects of living with MS comes if we can no longer work due to our disease.
There are loads of resources out there to help us decide when to disclose (or not). The government especially wants to help us stay employed. But even with rehabilitation counseling, we may get to a place where we just cannot work any longer. Because society often seems to value what we do more than who we are, this point in one’s life can be particularly difficult...
Every adolescent boy has a different answer to the age-old question, “What do you want to do with your life?”
But boys grow into men and some of their dreams, although never forgotten, adjust to new realities. I might impress my 6-year-old son with how far I can throw a football, but NFL material I am not (and never was). I’m not really a fan of Oreo cookies anymore and the idea of running my own pizza joint lost most of its luster many years ago.