I cannot believe that this will be my 22^nd year living with multiple sclerosis. Looking back, it all feels so surreal. The initial fears were so real, so huge. Some of them still are.

These wild cards … who deals them anyway? No one in the family with MS. So what made me so special? And how unfair is this legacy I might or might not leave my children? For heaven’s sake, we live close to the equator, it is hot here, we barbecue, we suntan, we are not supposed to be receptive to multiple sclerosis.

Ok, that was my two minute venting. I am human. I am allowed to vent. But not too long … never good for the digestion. What I learnt from all of this, now that is the good stuff!  Not Pollyanna yay the sun is shining I have won the Lotto stuff, GOOD stuff!

I have learnt the wonder of my  mind and body. I lose something, I get it back. Not necessarily all of it, but some of it. And if I don’t, I work around it. And at times, surprise surprise, all of it comes back. Just when I have learnt to cope without it. Resilience. Truly amazing.

Family support never ceases to surprise me. If you are financially poor, if your MS is dastardly bad, if your neurologist is a mean son of a gun, if your spouse opts out, and and and … it’s dark and dreary. But, if you have family support you are surely blessed and your war will be half won. The spouse’s departure will be painful, but manageable. The cookie jar can be empty, so what?  Bread will be dessert.  The neuro may be unsympathetic, but his receptionist will always squeeze you in on bad days. Family support (whether it is your own blood family or a grand group of friends, a support group or an e-mail circle) just puts the golden lining on every day. The war is half won.

And the miracles. How about those? One day, I want to work in this department. Talk about Pollyannas! I am sure they have no time what so ever for any negativity. Just too busy working on those surprises one sometimes only notices after a while. Sneaky. The donation of a piece of equipment you desperately need but just cannot afford. The unexpected windfall from the tax man – the exact same amount you need for a year’s physiotherapy. The incontinence that magically disappears for the whole time you are on holiday. The cognitive functions that make a welcome return during important decision making periods. The unexpected article on television or radio mapping your exact situation or need at that particular point in time. How do they know?

Do you not agree that hindsight too may be a miracle? You slog on, day after day, month after month, year after year. And then you look back and it’s a miracle, you can see! It’s like a puzzle, all of a sudden you see exactly how the pieces fit into one another. And the picture does not look half so bad. It actually makes sense. And one can understand why A did not follow B, even if you desperately wanted it to be that way, and at the time, your whole self went into total revolt because of this. But now, 20 20 vision prevails and the whole picture is clear and it worked out for the best and makes total sense.

I am sure you can jot down your own miracles, you should. Your page will be filled to the brim with the memory of cups of coffee with a very special friend on a day that you dreaded being on your own, a mother-in-law who e-mailed with a snippet of MS news that was beneficial to your specific condition, a neighbour who brought over a small fluffy kitten to keep you company during the day.

I told you, the learning curve was good stuff! I hope there’s lots more to come!