65 This is a crash course on loving someone with MS. It’s not what you think. There’s still joy, still life – and yes, we’re still laughing at terrible TV-shows. Hey there, Last year, I was catching up with a friend over coffee. We were laughing about some ridiculous TV show when she suddenly got quiet. ‘Remember how you told me about your MS?’ she asked. ‘Well, my partner… they’ve just been diagnosed too.’ Shit. In that moment, I wasn’t just her friend with MS. I was every scared, confused person who’d ever heard those words. I was my dad, shocked in the neurologist’s office. I was my mom, trying not to cry as she googled ‘MS life expectancy’ at 2 AM. I wanted to tell her it would be okay, but that felt like a lie. MS isn’t okay. It’s messy and unpredictable and sometimes it really, really sucks. But as I looked at my friend, I realized something important. My life didn’t end with my diagnosis. It changed, yeah. But I’m still here, still laughing at bad TV, still enjoying my coffee. That’s what I wanted her to understand. That’s what I want you to understand if you’re reading this, freaked out about your partner’s diagnosis. This isn’t a ‘rah-rah, you’ve got this!’ pep talk. It’s just me, someone living with MS, telling you that while this journey isn’t easy, it’s not the end. There’s still joy. There’s still love. There’s still life. And that’s what I wanted her to understand. The First Months Let’s be real – those first months after diagnosis? They’re a mindfuck. One day you’re planning your future, the next you’re wondering if you should cancel that vacation you booked. It’s like someone hit the pause button on your life, except the world keeps spinning anyway. I remember feeling like I was living someone else’s life. Like any minute, someone would jump out and yell, “Just kidding! Your brain’s fine!” But that didn’t happen. Instead, I had to figure out how to be me again, just… a slightly different version.You know what helped? My best friend showed up one day, declared we were going out, and practically dragged me to a club. We danced like idiots, laughed until we couldn’t breathe, and yeah, I ugly-cried in the bathroom. Because sometimes, you need that release to remind yourself you’re still very much alive. Life has a funny way of marching on, whether we’re ready for it or not. And looking back, we should all be grateful the doctors found out what was wrong when they did. It’s far better to fight this disease head-on than to spend years in pain, not knowing what’s wrong. Is it still scary? Absolutely. This diagnosis is a punch to the gut, and there’s no sugarcoating that. It’s okay to feel angry, scared, or completely lost. Those feelings are real, and they’re valid. Take it one day at a time. That’s all anyone can really do. The Medical Merry-Go-Round Brace yourself for doctors. So. Many. Doctors. It’s like suddenly you’re the most popular kid in school, except instead of friends, you’ve got neurologists, physical therapists, and nurses all wanting a piece of you. But here’s the silver lining – medicine for MS has come a long way. Like, light-years. People diagnosed in the 90s had it rough. Now? We’ve got options. They’re not perfect, but they can slow this beast down and make day-to-day life a whole lot easier. Don’t be afraid to ask questions. Lots of them. If your doctor uses a term you don’t understand, make them explain it. You’re not in med school – it’s okay to need things in plain English. Living With The Invisible Here’s something TV gets wrong about MS – we don’t all end up in wheelchairs overnight. Most days, I look perfectly healthy. Your partner probably will too. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. The real kicker with MS is the invisible stuff. Fatigue that feels like you’re wading through thick fog. Pain that pops up like an unwelcome guest. Days when your brain feels like it’s stuffed with cotton balls. These are the things your partner might face, and they can be hard to understand from the outside. Some days they might be fine, other days they might struggle to get out of bed. It’s unpredictable as hell, which, let’s face it, can be pretty frustrating for everyone involved. Fatigue is another big one. It’s not just being tired – it can be completely draining. Your partner might need to rest more than before, and that’s okay. Emotions might also run high for a while. The diagnosis is a lot to process. Be patient with each other as you go through this. The ‘What If’ Monster I’ll be honest – the ‘what ifs’ nearly drove me crazy at first. What if I can’t work? What if I end up in a wheelchair? What if, what if, what if… But here’s the thing: MS or not, none of us know what tomorrow brings. Worrying about what might happen just robs you of today. I’ve learned to focus on what’s real right now, not what could be. When those anxious thoughts creep in, I try to redirect my energy to something positive. Like planning my next Netflix binge. Hey, whatever works, right? Moving Forward (Together!) Every person’s MS is different. It’s frustrating, but it’s also kind of liberating. No one can tell you exactly how this will play out. Your partner’s MS journey is uniquely theirs. It might be tough at times, but it could also be surprisingly manageable. The key? Communication. Talk to each other. About symptoms, fears, what helps, what doesn’t. Don’t try to be mind readers. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to cry. But don’t let fear win. And partners? Take care of yourselves too. It’s not selfish – it’s necessary. You can’t be there for your partner if you’re running on empty. Remember, MS is part of your life now, but it’s not everything. Keep living, keep planning, keep dreaming. And if you need someone to vent to who gets it? I’m here. We’re all here. Because the one good thing about MS? It comes with one hell of a community. You’ve got this. Both of you. It’s not the journey you planned, but it can still be one hell of a ride.
65 This is a crash course on loving someone with MS. It’s not what you think. There’s still joy, still life – and yes, we’re still laughing at terrible TV-shows. Hey there, Last year, I was catching up with a friend over coffee. We were laughing about some ridiculous TV show when she suddenly got quiet. ‘Remember how you told me about your MS?’ she asked. ‘Well, my partner… they’ve just been diagnosed too.’ Shit. In that moment, I wasn’t just her friend with MS. I was every scared, confused person who’d ever heard those words. I was my dad, shocked in the neurologist’s office. I was my mom, trying not to cry as she googled ‘MS life expectancy’ at 2 AM. I wanted to tell her it would be okay, but that felt like a lie. MS isn’t okay. It’s messy and unpredictable and sometimes it really, really sucks. But as I looked at my friend, I realized something important. My life didn’t end with my diagnosis. It changed, yeah. But I’m still here, still laughing at bad TV, still enjoying my coffee. That’s what I wanted her to understand. That’s what I want you to understand if you’re reading this, freaked out about your partner’s diagnosis. This isn’t a ‘rah-rah, you’ve got this!’ pep talk. It’s just me, someone living with MS, telling you that while this journey isn’t easy, it’s not the end. There’s still joy. There’s still love. There’s still life. And that’s what I wanted her to understand. The First Months Let’s be real – those first months after diagnosis? They’re a mindfuck. One day you’re planning your future, the next you’re wondering if you should cancel that vacation you booked. It’s like someone hit the pause button on your life, except the world keeps spinning anyway. I remember feeling like I was living someone else’s life. Like any minute, someone would jump out and yell, “Just kidding! Your brain’s fine!” But that didn’t happen. Instead, I had to figure out how to be me again, just… a slightly different version.You know what helped? My best friend showed up one day, declared we were going out, and practically dragged me to a club. We danced like idiots, laughed until we couldn’t breathe, and yeah, I ugly-cried in the bathroom. Because sometimes, you need that release to remind yourself you’re still very much alive. Life has a funny way of marching on, whether we’re ready for it or not. And looking back, we should all be grateful the doctors found out what was wrong when they did. It’s far better to fight this disease head-on than to spend years in pain, not knowing what’s wrong. Is it still scary? Absolutely. This diagnosis is a punch to the gut, and there’s no sugarcoating that. It’s okay to feel angry, scared, or completely lost. Those feelings are real, and they’re valid. Take it one day at a time. That’s all anyone can really do. The Medical Merry-Go-Round Brace yourself for doctors. So. Many. Doctors. It’s like suddenly you’re the most popular kid in school, except instead of friends, you’ve got neurologists, physical therapists, and nurses all wanting a piece of you. But here’s the silver lining – medicine for MS has come a long way. Like, light-years. People diagnosed in the 90s had it rough. Now? We’ve got options. They’re not perfect, but they can slow this beast down and make day-to-day life a whole lot easier. Don’t be afraid to ask questions. Lots of them. If your doctor uses a term you don’t understand, make them explain it. You’re not in med school – it’s okay to need things in plain English. Living With The Invisible Here’s something TV gets wrong about MS – we don’t all end up in wheelchairs overnight. Most days, I look perfectly healthy. Your partner probably will too. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. The real kicker with MS is the invisible stuff. Fatigue that feels like you’re wading through thick fog. Pain that pops up like an unwelcome guest. Days when your brain feels like it’s stuffed with cotton balls. These are the things your partner might face, and they can be hard to understand from the outside. Some days they might be fine, other days they might struggle to get out of bed. It’s unpredictable as hell, which, let’s face it, can be pretty frustrating for everyone involved. Fatigue is another big one. It’s not just being tired – it can be completely draining. Your partner might need to rest more than before, and that’s okay. Emotions might also run high for a while. The diagnosis is a lot to process. Be patient with each other as you go through this. The ‘What If’ Monster I’ll be honest – the ‘what ifs’ nearly drove me crazy at first. What if I can’t work? What if I end up in a wheelchair? What if, what if, what if… But here’s the thing: MS or not, none of us know what tomorrow brings. Worrying about what might happen just robs you of today. I’ve learned to focus on what’s real right now, not what could be. When those anxious thoughts creep in, I try to redirect my energy to something positive. Like planning my next Netflix binge. Hey, whatever works, right? Moving Forward (Together!) Every person’s MS is different. It’s frustrating, but it’s also kind of liberating. No one can tell you exactly how this will play out. Your partner’s MS journey is uniquely theirs. It might be tough at times, but it could also be surprisingly manageable. The key? Communication. Talk to each other. About symptoms, fears, what helps, what doesn’t. Don’t try to be mind readers. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to cry. But don’t let fear win. And partners? Take care of yourselves too. It’s not selfish – it’s necessary. You can’t be there for your partner if you’re running on empty. Remember, MS is part of your life now, but it’s not everything. Keep living, keep planning, keep dreaming. And if you need someone to vent to who gets it? I’m here. We’re all here. Because the one good thing about MS? It comes with one hell of a community. You’ve got this. Both of you. It’s not the journey you planned, but it can still be one hell of a ride.
65 This is a crash course on loving someone with MS. It’s not what you think. There’s still joy, still life – and yes, we’re still laughing at terrible TV-shows. Hey there, Last year, I was catching up with a friend over coffee. We were laughing about some ridiculous TV show when she suddenly got quiet. ‘Remember how you told me about your MS?’ she asked. ‘Well, my partner… they’ve just been diagnosed too.’ Shit. In that moment, I wasn’t just her friend with MS. I was every scared, confused person who’d ever heard those words. I was my dad, shocked in the neurologist’s office. I was my mom, trying not to cry as she googled ‘MS life expectancy’ at 2 AM. I wanted to tell her it would be okay, but that felt like a lie. MS isn’t okay. It’s messy and unpredictable and sometimes it really, really sucks. But as I looked at my friend, I realized something important. My life didn’t end with my diagnosis. It changed, yeah. But I’m still here, still laughing at bad TV, still enjoying my coffee. That’s what I wanted her to understand. That’s what I want you to understand if you’re reading this, freaked out about your partner’s diagnosis. This isn’t a ‘rah-rah, you’ve got this!’ pep talk. It’s just me, someone living with MS, telling you that while this journey isn’t easy, it’s not the end. There’s still joy. There’s still love. There’s still life. And that’s what I wanted her to understand. The First Months Let’s be real – those first months after diagnosis? They’re a mindfuck. One day you’re planning your future, the next you’re wondering if you should cancel that vacation you booked. It’s like someone hit the pause button on your life, except the world keeps spinning anyway. I remember feeling like I was living someone else’s life. Like any minute, someone would jump out and yell, “Just kidding! Your brain’s fine!” But that didn’t happen. Instead, I had to figure out how to be me again, just… a slightly different version.You know what helped? My best friend showed up one day, declared we were going out, and practically dragged me to a club. We danced like idiots, laughed until we couldn’t breathe, and yeah, I ugly-cried in the bathroom. Because sometimes, you need that release to remind yourself you’re still very much alive. Life has a funny way of marching on, whether we’re ready for it or not. And looking back, we should all be grateful the doctors found out what was wrong when they did. It’s far better to fight this disease head-on than to spend years in pain, not knowing what’s wrong. Is it still scary? Absolutely. This diagnosis is a punch to the gut, and there’s no sugarcoating that. It’s okay to feel angry, scared, or completely lost. Those feelings are real, and they’re valid. Take it one day at a time. That’s all anyone can really do. The Medical Merry-Go-Round Brace yourself for doctors. So. Many. Doctors. It’s like suddenly you’re the most popular kid in school, except instead of friends, you’ve got neurologists, physical therapists, and nurses all wanting a piece of you. But here’s the silver lining – medicine for MS has come a long way. Like, light-years. People diagnosed in the 90s had it rough. Now? We’ve got options. They’re not perfect, but they can slow this beast down and make day-to-day life a whole lot easier. Don’t be afraid to ask questions. Lots of them. If your doctor uses a term you don’t understand, make them explain it. You’re not in med school – it’s okay to need things in plain English. Living With The Invisible Here’s something TV gets wrong about MS – we don’t all end up in wheelchairs overnight. Most days, I look perfectly healthy. Your partner probably will too. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. The real kicker with MS is the invisible stuff. Fatigue that feels like you’re wading through thick fog. Pain that pops up like an unwelcome guest. Days when your brain feels like it’s stuffed with cotton balls. These are the things your partner might face, and they can be hard to understand from the outside. Some days they might be fine, other days they might struggle to get out of bed. It’s unpredictable as hell, which, let’s face it, can be pretty frustrating for everyone involved. Fatigue is another big one. It’s not just being tired – it can be completely draining. Your partner might need to rest more than before, and that’s okay. Emotions might also run high for a while. The diagnosis is a lot to process. Be patient with each other as you go through this. The ‘What If’ Monster I’ll be honest – the ‘what ifs’ nearly drove me crazy at first. What if I can’t work? What if I end up in a wheelchair? What if, what if, what if… But here’s the thing: MS or not, none of us know what tomorrow brings. Worrying about what might happen just robs you of today. I’ve learned to focus on what’s real right now, not what could be. When those anxious thoughts creep in, I try to redirect my energy to something positive. Like planning my next Netflix binge. Hey, whatever works, right? Moving Forward (Together!) Every person’s MS is different. It’s frustrating, but it’s also kind of liberating. No one can tell you exactly how this will play out. Your partner’s MS journey is uniquely theirs. It might be tough at times, but it could also be surprisingly manageable. The key? Communication. Talk to each other. About symptoms, fears, what helps, what doesn’t. Don’t try to be mind readers. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to cry. But don’t let fear win. And partners? Take care of yourselves too. It’s not selfish – it’s necessary. You can’t be there for your partner if you’re running on empty. Remember, MS is part of your life now, but it’s not everything. Keep living, keep planning, keep dreaming. And if you need someone to vent to who gets it? I’m here. We’re all here. Because the one good thing about MS? It comes with one hell of a community. You’ve got this. Both of you. It’s not the journey you planned, but it can still be one hell of a ride.