“Physical ills are the taxes laid upon this wretched life; some are taxed higher, and some lower, but all pay something.” – Lord Chesterfield

Thoughts, feelings, emotions…all of which I should be able to express, but I am finding it difficult to do so. On the outside I probably appear pretty nonchalant, but internally I am a big heaping pile of mess. In the last few years I have been diagnosed with one thing after another – all of which seems like separate problems in the grand scheme of things, but in the face of a specialist can come together into one particular diagnosis…multiple sclerosis. I am being tested for MS.

I have witnessed MS and its disease first hand. I watched my Aunt Sandy get diagnosed at a young age (around my current age) and die at age 41 from complications of the disease. While MS is generally not hereditary, small clusters in families have happened and doesn’t mean you are “safe” from the disease. It has always been one of my biggest fears, and the prospect of being tested doesn’t really surprise me. Looking back over the last few years, I can’t really say that I am surprised that they are testing for it. I have several symptoms. There are a few other things that I could have other than MS. Stroke…brain tumor…a few odd ball viral and bacterial infections. None of them really sound all that appealing and don’t really cover the entire comprehensive list of all my issues.

I would love to sit here and tell anyone who is reading that I am in tip top shape and handling this so very well. I’m not. I’m a complete ball of nerves and I’m silently freaking out. I keep thinking back to Aunt Sandy and how quickly she not only gave up on herself, but people gave up on her. Once Aunt Sandy needed a lot of care the family solution to that was to throw her in a nursing home instead of being humane and helping care for her. Could you imagine being in your 30s and in a nursing home? I can’t. I would give up too.

In all my years, I have sworn I would never commit suicide. Ever. I never wanted to be my mother. However, I can finally say that I have one scenario where I could see myself heading down that road. Now before any of you freak out and call the cops saying someone on the internet is talking about suicide ideation I in no way want to die. With that said, though, if I do have MS and I end up with the progressive and dibilitating version that my Aunt Sandy had I do not want to be remembered how she was at the end of her life. Someone who can’t chew. Someone who couldn’t drink. Someone who needed help with every small little minute detail of their life. I don’t want my children to change feeding tubes and colostomy bags. If I end up having MS eventually I will move to a state that has not only medical marijuana laws so that I can benefit from medical CBD oil, but death with dignity…because everyone deserves to die with dignity…even me.

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