When the future seems impossibly bleak, a natural response is to turn inwards and fall, unresisting, into the warm embrace of despair. We tell ourselves that no-one can possibly understand our situation. We assume that as this disease is incurable, no-one can help. We convince ourselves that there is nothing we can do.
And there is a certain seductiveness to this, because it absolves us of any responsibility. If all is lost before we even begin, then why bother? I confess that for a while, I took this attitude. In my more melodramatic moments, I convinced myself that my life was, in all but name, finished. All I had to do was wait. But at fifty-one, that wait could be a long one.
And then through the kind introduction of a mutual friend, came the perfect person to challenge my inertia. He had also recently been diagnosed with MS, though no-one could possibly have guessed it.
A Glimmer of Light
He arrived full of positive energy and good will. His excellent health and cheerful disposition was itself a tonic. The fact that he was still working and enjoying life in ways I had not dreamed possible piqued my curiosity. What did he know that I didn’t?
What he knew about was the Overcoming Multiple Sclerosis programme. He’d read the book, gone on a retreat and was following the life-style guidelines faithfully. If he was an example of what you could achieve, then this was certainly worth a look!
He gave me a copy of Overcoming Multiple Sclerosis and some life-affirming DVDs of people surmounting any number of impossible situations from infertility to advanced cancer. My outlook shifted: was it really true that no outcome was certain, that everything was possible? I was determined to find out. What, after all, did I have to lose?
I started with the DVDs, as they required little effort, then I began on the book.
With my less than optimal brain state, it took me quite a while, but what it promised was extraordinary. It would require a total life-edit and, at least initially, a tremendous amount of self-discipline, but anything that was going to help keep me out of a wheel-chair was surely worth pursuing.
It argued that by following a restricted (but not impossible) diet and making changes to daily living by including exercise and meditation, the progression of the disease could be slowed and in some cases reversed.
Since I am a terrible sceptic about all things medical, I was delighted to see that nothing passed muster without rigorous medical testing. And most of it just made sense.
In truth, there was nothing in the programme that was anything but life-enriching. It required no membership fee (in fact the book in the UK and Ireland is free on request); it required nothing of you except that you try and in return promised a great deal of support. There was an informative website, ambassadors who organised local meet-ups, learning days and retreats.
Here was what I had been craving most: people who understood; people who wanted to help and people who, most importantly, were going to give me some guidelines on what to do.
For me, there are four pillars of the OMS life-style: therapy, diet, exercise and meditation and I will cover each of these in detail in their own posts, but if you want to get ahead and read the full seven-step programme, I suggest you visit the website at : https://overcomingms.org
By embarking on the programme, I felt as though I had stepped out of the darkness and into the light. Of course, there were moments when I wavered and even despaired. But as time went on and my healing became ever more apparent, these moments of anguish became shorter and more infrequent. So join with me in making our best lives. Whatever it takes.