It's been a few months, and I've realized something.
My medical history is a full one, for sure. This year alone, I will have trumped what most people experience in their medical lives until they reach their mid to late 60's. In the last four years, I have learned more about myself and my disease(s) than my medical professionals typically know off the bat. It has made me a better clinician to my patients, and it has made me more empathetic as a human.
But most importantly, I feel it is vital to stress one fact: my life is not hard.
I say this now, having lived a hard life. Sure, I can sew sonnets of woe for my past, I'm even writing a book, and I could elicit an "awww" response with a genuine story every day if I wanted to. But I don't. Because as hard as my life has been, I owe it to the world not to complain about it - and because I know that, right now, it is not hard.
I have a husband who loves me, and who is so patient with me and my many idiosyncracies. I find joy in the stupidest things - from finding a clutch of snail eggs on my aquarium wall, to watching my bunnies leap over each other in the yard. I pulled the weeds in the front of my home today, feeling pride that I have a place to keep nice. I admired my daughter for minutes on end this evening, watching her jump around in her pajamas and yell out colors. I love watching her grow. I am at peace. And, most of all, I am happy.
I know a large part of my happiness is due to my medication - when I was stricken with anxiety 24/7, I could count the days that I felt well because they were so few that I had to take stock of them. Just before I was diagnosed with MS was one of these times - and it came crashing to a halt because of a public panic attack. I don't have those any more. Things have somewhat swung the other way now, to tell you the truth - I watch emotional films and listen to sad songs and do not shed a tear. I haven't really cried in months. I welled up at the end of "13 Going On 30" the other day for about a minute - then it dried up. I don't expose myself to feelings of anxiety or sadness on purpose any more, and I think this is a big reason why my brain doesn't process those emotions as readily as it used to.
I am very pleased that, at 30 years old, I am content with where I am in life. I love my job. I love my family. I love my home, my pets, my plants. I even like myself most days, a huge change from where I have been.
No - I am not healthy. But my life isn't hard.
I know plenty of healthy folks who are beautiful, put-together, and miserable.
There is a balance of life - what we are given, and what we do with it. I choose to make the most of what I have been given - even if that set of cards seems like a shit hand at first. You never know what will be wild!
Love all, MSloan
