6 years, 1 relapse, 1 wedding, and 1 baby

Well the title sums everything up nice and neatly, but I guess I should fill in some of the details for those of you without accurately vivid imaginations.

K. came home, finally, and spent the first year learning English as we got to know each other better.  We had as normal a life as you could in such circumstances.  After a year, we chose to move.  Towards the end of the move, we were doing it a little bit at a time as the location we were moving to allowed for us to move in installments, sometimes a couple a day.  It was at this time that I began to have sensory problems with my right hand.  First it got numb and then  progressed to the point where I had  absolutely no spacial concept of where my hand was or what it was doing.  My hand still worked, I just really had no idea/sensation of where it was or what it was doing.   When I would drive I would set my hand on a pillow on my lap so I felt like I knew where it was and drive with my left hand.  When I would use it to hold a cup of soda, I would either drop it or squeeze it way too hard because I could not feel how much pressure I was applying.

[orig: I went to the neurologist, and I don’t think he believed the symptoms I describe at first, but after I could squeeze his hand as hard as anyone  , he said “You’re right, you have no spatial sensation of your hand”.]  When I went to the neurologist and described my symptoms, I don’t think he believed me at first, particularly after I could squeeze his hand as hard as anyone.  Though after a brief examination where I had no clue what he was  doing with my hand, he said, “You’re right, you have no spatial sensation of your hand.”  I guess I could have been lying to him and testing him, though I’m not quite sure what purpose that would have served.  He set me up with the first of a three day course of Solumedrol in his office and then ordered the other two treatments as home care.

Have I mentioned yet that I am stubborn, do not like people to tell me how to do things, do not like people to witness my weaknesses, and that I was a paramedic?  Well, I refused the nurse that was being sent out to start the IV, figuring I could start it on myself.  I know that I have mentioned that I am a wimp, so I took a few valium so that I would relax and not care as much and applied the tourniquet.  The flaw in my plan was that I hadn’t been drinking much liquid in the last few days.  Generally my level of fluid intake is fairly low.  Also, I am right handed and was trying to do this with my left hand.  So between veins that wouldn’t pop up in my hand and just general clumsiness with my left hand, I admitted defeat after sticking myself about 5 times and called a friend to help me.  Admitting defeat was a very hard thing to do.

I completed my last two treatments and then it took me about a month to return to work as good as new.  It turned out that this little hiatus from work was a blessing in disguise.  I had been gaining weight lately and I stumbled into a weight loss group at my church during that time.  By the time I returned to work, I was able to comfortably fit into my uniform again–a uniform that was much larger than it should have been in the first place, but at least I was making progress.

When K. first came home, she hated men.  After a couple of years and some positive male role models, she decided that it was OK to allow men into our lives, so I began to date.  I went on a few first dates, dated one guy for about 8 months, and then one day I just never heard from him again.

I then decided to try this new form of dating, speed dating.  I went to three events and as it turned out I had met my future husband at the second event.  After a couple of weeks of dating, I knew that it was unfair to continue without letting him know about the MS.  So as we sat having drinks one night, I told him.  I did my best to explain what it was, what had happened so far, and that the disease was unpredictable.  He showed absolutely no concern and just said we would deal with things as they arose.  I didn’t know it then, but that was my introduction to “Ed World”.  “Ed World” is a special place where nothing goes wrong, and if by some slim chance things are not aligned properly and something does goes wrong, you don’t worry about that either because things always come out OK.

Ed and I dated for about 8 months, he proposed, and we were married just over 4 months later.  Two days after we returned from our honeymoon in St. Lucia, I got pregnant.  An uneventful (at least MS-wise) 41 weeks later, G. was born.

So there you have it: 6 years, 1 relapse, 1 wedding, and 1 baby.



  1. herrad said,

    February 16, 2010 at 11:00 am

    Hi Debbie,
    I enjoyed reading your post, thanks for sharing 6 years, 1 relapse, 1 wedding, 1 baby.
    Keep warm (it is snowing again here)
    Have a good Tuesday.

    • Debbie said,

      February 16, 2010 at 1:07 pm

      I plan on keeping warm. We had about 4 feet of snow last week and it’s suppose to snow on and off this evening and tomorrow. Tomorrow is my neurologists appointment which got canceled because of snow last time so I’m hoping we don’t get too much tonight. Take care.

  2. sclason said,

    February 16, 2010 at 5:22 pm

    Thank you for sharing your story!

  3. Muff said,

    February 16, 2010 at 11:13 pm

    I love reading your stories!

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