When Life with MS Gets Heavy
This isn’t a blog post for newbies. Or for those who
don’t want to be reminded about what multiple sclerosis can do to our bodies. Or
for those who want a typical Dave happy-go-lucky essay that will make you smile
and escape and maybe make you laugh out loud. No, it’s not that. (I can hear the hissing disappointment now.) But after I read a reply to a post I made on
Facebook the other day, what I am writing needs to be said. Sorry.
Recently a newer MS drug, Zinbryta, was voluntarily
pulled off the market due to serious safety concerns. The response from some in
the MS community was predictable. “Exactly why I don't take any of the MS drugs.”
Another chimed in. “This is the problem with all of these drugs.” And so on,
and so on. One even wrote that her husband got a brain infection (from another
drug, apparently one of the 16 worldwide who tragically suffered that fate),
and proceeded to warn everyone to be VERY SCARED about MS medications.
Life has risks. Jesus, just stepping out your front
door has risks. You could trip over the step, lightning could strike you, a car
could careen into you, and then a power pole could be felled by beavers and crush
you. Or you could narrowly avoid a power pole felled by beavers only to step on
the resulting live wire and get shocked to death while thinking, Whew, lucky
that power pole didn’t hit me—stupid beavers.
Likewise, all drugs have potentially serious side
effects. All drugs. As do vitamins. Yeah, vitamins. As do dietary supplements. Indeed,
the New England Journal of Medicine reports that adverse events from supplements are responsible for an average of about 23,000 emergency department
visits per year.
But “pick your poison” anecdotes about MS drugs and
their potential side effects, no matter how rare or mild, somehow often trump and
subsequently bury all benefits these drugs can deliver to people with MS. And
that’s a big problem. Because the potential side effects from our shared
disease can be devastating. And this is where it gets heavy. I’ve lost friends
to this disease. And I am powerless to help my friends who have enormous
challenges daily, hourly.
Recently, Jacob told me about the last meal he ever
ate—he now can only taste food with his tongue. He can’t swallow. Or walk. Or
use his arms. Or talk. He has a four-year-old daughter, an amazing wife, daily
caregivers, and a streak of stubborn like my own. Just five years ago we were
laughing and sharing a pint (top photo). And now. Side effects from drugs didn’t make him
like this, MS did. The same goes for my blogger buds Marc (Wheelchair Kamikaze)
and Nicole (My New Normals), and too many friends I’ve made on ActiveMSers. For
too many people I care about, every day is climbing a mountain. Every. Day.
And sometimes, sadly, those mountains get too steep,
as this deeply personal and touching story, An Instinct for Kindness by Chris Larner on BBC Radio (link expires March 30,
2018) relays about an MSer’s final journey as told by her former husband. It’s
crushing, disturbing, and eye opening. Allyson's MS challenges are not uncommon (creeping
disability) and her attempted solutions are not uncommon (drugs, diets,
magnets, anything). She finally makes the decision to go to Switzerland,
and I can’t blame her.
An Instinct for Kindness on BBC Radio |
Her passing, and the mountains looming before friends, might make you feel hopeless to the challenges this disease presents. But wait. Through their stories and
struggles, they might be able to help you. Help you not to underestimate MS.
It’s easy to hold on to the idea that the MS you
have isn’t going to affect you like it affects others. (That might ultimately
be true.) And thinking that way is not just you, and it’s not just people with
MS. That trap is set for anyone with health issues, even Steve Jobs, who many
considered a genius. He thought that same way when he avoided traditional treatment
for his cancer for nearly a year. That’s human. Unfortunately, that’s
also hubris.
There is no question bad shit could still go down even
if you do treat your MS with the drugs that are available. Yes, there is a
chance the drugs themselves could harm you, too—don’t be blind to that. But far
more likely: it’s going to be the disease that wreaks the most havoc. Take that
seriously. And also take seriously that this disease is most treatable in its
early stages, not when it is progressive and rumbling like a runaway train.
Comments
JE
This disease can wreak havoc in so many ways. For many, side-effects from the drugs amount to a temporary inconvenience, but side-effects from the disease can be everlasting.
-Lisa
BS
The healthcare system in Canada has its limitations. I enjoyed the article and I really enjoy your website and I'm truly grateful for it!
Your neighbour to the North,
Wendy Cox
I am the Mum of 3 (21,17,12)... I have to say one thing about your last post and that is not only did I like but thank goodness for a real person with a real vision of ms and its sucky disabling nonsense...
I was Diagnosed 4 years ago and skipped straight to primary progressive ms... my husband says that I am never content to start at the beginning of anything... according to my doctors I may have had ms for 20 years undiagnosed... apparently me seeing my own decline and struggles didn’t alert anyone... (i had ct scans and ultrasound sounds & it took me to collapse before an MRI was done)....
I am struggling with my left leg... it acts heavy... and constant pain in left arm... fatigue is an eye-opener for me (falling asleep in the middle of a computer install isn't funny).... my back & ribs are usually the on slaught visionary’s/receivers of my pain... but I tell people that Ms sucks... but I'm here and ignoring the pain so let get and laugh a little...
I am 41 and a tech who installs internet connections and does a little web design as well as I teach the elderly to use the internet/email as well as I assist them in buying computers with their needs in mind... I am also a counsellor.
I thank you, Dave, for the refreshing insight into your days... & it is simply nice to see no sugar-coated BS...
I am in the midst of setting up my own blog and hope yo become a subscriber to your blog and Facebook posts... I love love love your no Bullshit sugar-coated approach... Bloody refreshing...
Thanks again for putting honesty back into Ms...
Regards
Tanta
That was the first and only time the MS words have been uttered to me by a medical professional.
The GP's advice: "Go home, keep taking the painkillers and make the most of what you have left."
Aged 68 now, it's almost a relief to be free of hospitals, medics and the well-meaning false hopes suggested by friends. Blessed by a capable husband, kind daughters and cheerful small grandsons, I've come to terms with the situation and being content to live for today. We work out our own strategies to deal with the new hurdles as they arise and make very few forward plans for the unknowable future. Seize The Day.
Thankfully this is not the case anymore. I was diagnosed 2.5 years ago in Canada and the landscape has definitely changed BUT it does depend on your neurologist how progressive a treatment regiment you will receive. If anyone had a neurologist who is reluctant to prescribe or change your drugs find a different neuro. I go to a MS clinic that is a research facility. A couple of my friends though were going to a neurologist from our health region who was reluctant to change their meds. Both are paying a price for that (and have recently changed neuros but will have to live with the deficits they have accumulated). If your neurologist is a wait and see type find a different one.
@Dave. Great job. These things need to be said. I'm far more afraid of the disease than I am the drugs and it really bothers me when I hear people spread fear about the drugs.
It is good to see some posts from people in the UK.I am 64 and live in the east of England. I was diagnosed with PPMS in 2007, an active independent person, working full time, in the swimming pool for a quick 30 lengths before work etc etc ...! I had to stop working in 2009, not because of my MS, but because the company I worked for collapsed after the Banking crisis. No one wants to employ someone with a progressive disease if they don't have to,plenty of interviews to tick the equal opportunities boxes, but no employment. I work as secretary for a charity (not MS)on a voluntary basis - but I want to earn cash.
Progressive is what it says, I am now a wheelchair user outside the house, but use a frame to drag my feet along inside.My husband is very supportive - in all senses of the word. I have learned to drive using hand controls, although it takes as long to get in and out of the car as it does to drive to my local town. I do seated exercise and stretching every day at home and marvel at all the things the rest of you do.
I have tried the few drugs licenced in the uk for Primary MS (not many) but now use small dose of Pregabalin which helps prevent nerve pain - a larger dose doesn't help - just seems to cause 'the zombie' effect.
I now have a permanent catheter, with flip-flow valve(not bag) which has actually increased my independence and definitely increased the amount of sleep I get, as I can't get out of bed unaided.
I lost a friend last week to Kidney disease - nothing to do with MS - everyone has problems.
My new mantra taken from this friend is-'Don't wait for the storm to pass, learn to dance in the rain' (metaphorically in my case!)
We are still alive at the moment, make the most of the love around you, it sometimes pops up at the most unexpected places, it is a good as a drug.
Jayne
Well said. Life is full of risk. If you don't take the risk--you don't have life. Simple as that.
Everyone has their own comfort zone when it comes to risk. I don't fault anyone for their choices. Mine has changed over the years. I used to try everything and anything in the hopes that it would change the course of my disease. But, after 33 years of MS and 12 with SPMS, the drugs that are offered barely even have a sliver of a chance (read, none) to change my outcome. I just finished my second Ocrevus infusion on the insistence of my very caring neuro and have no illusions of it modifying my decline. I have a great deal of dis-ease in the fact that I have been nothing more than a pawn in a cash-grab for Big Pharma to line their pockets with.
Well said. And it needed to be said. When I was diagnosed in 1986 there were no medications. I was on no meds until the first one was FDA approved, Betaseron and boy, if I could have done a cartwheel I would have. A medication. YAY! Despite having side effects and waiting for the next med to come along, at least I was starting to have choices and the side effects are little to put up with compared with the long haul outlook of disability.
Sending strength to you and yours
I've been extraordinarily lucky that my MS has been quiet for just shy of six years. I had a year of "what the hell is happening to me" when everyone told me it was peri-menopause (at 45), then received a diagnosis relatively quickly once the lesions were located in my spinal cord (I'll spare you all the in between garbage, you've been there). I had a freakishly rare reaction to my first DMT and got to stay in the house from April to mid-September courtesy of an immune system that consisted of seven lymphocytes (as opposed to the norm of 800-1500), praying that the thumb infection and fever would FINALLY go away. As soon as the first drug was out of my system, I started my second and current DMT and am tolerating it very well.
About eight months ago, I had the "joy" of being lectured by someone who said she was an ambassador for the National MS Society, has had MS for 10 years and managed it with diet. She told me I needed to do the research about what's in those medications/the side effects, etc and should stop taking mine. I have a long fuse and this woman sent me from zero to livid in less than 6 seconds. (It didn't help that she was drunk out of her gourd and hitting on my husband either.) I defended my choice, said that I have done the research, voiced my opinion that her health was sheer luck, not diet and managed not to say anything really awful.
Sadly, my hubby told me recently she had a massive flare that put her in the hospital for weeks, was now on medication and had lost some functionality (he didn't know what). He said I must feel smug because I was SO upset after that conversation. No, I just felt terribly sad for her. She has three kids and is paying a really high price for one dumb decision.
Yes, I've told my neuro, "I prefer to believe that my myelin is special, don't pop my bubble", but I'm also doing everything I possibly can to treat the stupid disease, just in case it isn't. Thank you for all you do and share with us.
My choice and the one I urge others to make is to use all tools available to valiantly fight for more time (medications, diet, exercise, sunshine, whatever you've got). More time to laugh, more time to smile, more time to experience, and yes, more time to cry. I wish to leave this game better than I found it and share as many of these feelings as possible until the last card is played.
My son deserves this attitude, my wife deserves this attitude, you (the ubiquitous you) deserve this attitude.
*click-poke-ouch