When I told mum over the phone, I still was fine, calm even. I retold her everything I could remember from what the neuro told me. How MS is manageable, the medications, the whole thing about having another MRI after 3-6 months time blah blah blah. Mum seemed calm too. Shock maybe?
So after I got to my car, I started to drive to the gym. I got an SMS. It was from mum. She said she doesn't think she is okay with it. Well why would you be okay with it? It's not okay. It's shit.
I pulled over and called her up. There were tears on both ends. The realisation of this news was beginning to now sink in for me. I assured mum that things would be fine and we will cope and she reciprocated these thoughts. What other options did I have? There are no high cliffs in D-Town to jump off.
I emailed M, and asked him to call when he had an opportunity. I wasn't going to break the news in an email. So I waited patiently for his call.
Meanwhile, I got onto google. Why didn't google tell me my weirdo feelings could have been MS? NONE of my self diagnosis attempts even mentioned MS. Lesson learnt. But I wasn't trying to seek a second self-opinion. I wanted to know more about what MS was.
So I googled MS. Loads of info. Lists of possible symptoms. Combining the info I was reading and what I had been told by the neuro, I understood what was happening and why I had all these asymmetrical weirdo symptoms. So there was a bit of a relief I suppose. With anything medical, when you find out what is wrong, then you can make attempts to understand and as a result, things aren't as scary. Or are they? I guess it depends on what illness you have. I wasn't scared yet.
One of the most frustrating things about MS is that it is unpredictable. The only thing certain, is that I was not going to get better. It is very slow (in most cases). In my case, it is slow. The medications out there assist in slowing the progression of the disease too (yay!). But at this stage, I was still considered undiagnosed. I just had to put up with symptoms I currently had and get on with life.
One thing that made sense to me when I was reading up on MS, was the sensitivity to heat. I thought I was just a freak all this time. A sweaty hot person. But now, I can understand. And all those times I thought to myself, "Shit it's hot. I am so hot. Why does no one else look as hot? Am I the only one?" Yes Sascha. Others may be hot, but you are a different hot. More about this hot topic in upcoming posts as it is a significant symptom for me.
I called dad. I told him. He was upset. I could hear it in his voice. "Oh Sascha". Tears again.
I called K. My bestie. She handled it well. She was upset, but dealt with it very well. We made jokes. We talked about Susan from Neighbours. K is THE BEST at bringing in humour to conquer sadness. We referred to my MS as Mad Sascha. So that is what I would call my MS with K from then on. "Oh Mad Sascha is being a bitch today" or "Mad Sascha is alright, I think she might be leaving soon". Perfect title for my blog too!
M rang. I told him. I cried. He was awesome. It was SO hard with him being so far away. And I knew it would be months until I saw him again. I needed a hug. Fucking hell. I really needed that hug from M.
I had to do a bit of explaining when I told M, K and the fam. MS 101 basics. I was confident that they would all do their own research to see how they could help, and to try and understand.
M probably could have come home. But it was not necessary. I was hardcore. Concrete was now a staple in my life and I would need to drink it every day for a while.
They ALL offered to fly up to see me. Mum, dad and K. But I was due to fly to Sydney in only a few weeks. So I declined all of their offers. But now, I kinda wish that I said yes to K. Mum and dad would have made it way too emotional for me. I probably needed some doses of K. All this is easily said after the fact.
One thing M did say to me over the phone, that still brings tears to my eyes today, is that he would push me around in a wheelchair if he had to. This meant SO much to me.
Now I had to somehow pass the time until I got to Sydney. Alone. CRAP. Will my head get any rest from mad thoughts?
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