healthy1

Since my doctor realizes I am going to go the holistic route, he is encouraging me in certain areas he strongly believes in that do not involve conventional medicine. He urges that I continue to exercise. Like me, he feels exercise is of the utmost importance. He approves of my routine, which includes cardio six days a week, weight training three days a week (on alternate days), yoga twice a week, and walking whenever I can.

I will no longer be practicing karate, however, and that saddens me. My whole family is involved with karate and I will miss it very much. My husband is a fifth-degree black belt, and a volunteer instructor for underprivileged kids. I am a first-degree black belt and was an assistant instructor. Our daughter is also a first-degree black belt and helps other kids in the class. But my days of high-impact anything are over. Besides the fact that my body overheats quickly, my balance is shot. With martial arts, balance is power and these days I could easily be knocked over by a toddler. So my husband and daughter will continue to go to class and I, at some point, will return as a spectator.

Since the doctor and I agree to disagree on my taking the medication, I run some holistic options by him. I sense reluctance on his part and see a slight grimace on his face, as I explain in depth all that I would like to try and what I am currently doing. I feel well versed with what I am saying; yet I also feel intimidated and I know I shouldn’t.

What I don’t tell the doctor, out of respect for him and his profession, is how upset I am that my first neurologist told me I had MS. It’s really scary to think that when a doctor is not completely positive about your diagnosis, they will name something, anything, instead of admitting they aren’t one hundred percent certain. I could handle the truth, couldn’t you? I would respect the truth. In my book that beats an inaccurate diagnosis, don’t you think?

Two weeks later, I am again sitting in my neurologist’s office, awaiting the news of what is hopefully, my final tests. At least for a while.

He and the PA come in, and tell me my tests came back normal. No Vitamin B12 deficiency; no optic neuritis. I am pleased, but I also realize this means I do indeed have CIS.

Then the battle of the meds starts. My doctor really wants me to start the medication my first neurologist suggested. I listen patiently to all he has to say, but I know my mind is already made up. When he is done speaking, I tell him my thoughts on the subject. How I would much rather look into holistic treatments, how the idea of injecting myself three times a week and being sick as a result for as long as I take the medication does not sit well with me. I tell him about all the awful reviews of the medication I have read on the forums online. I ask if there is an oral medication in the works.

The bottom line? He strongly believes I should take the medication, to help prevent my possibly advancing to full-blown MS. My response? I’m not a fool; if this were a matter of life or death, or my not ever being able to walk again, I would take the medication in a heartbeat. He sees I am adamant, so we come to something of an agreement.

The doctor tells me CIS/MS can sometimes be mistaken for a Vitamin B12 deficiency, and therefore orders a test. He also says he wants me to have an optic neuritis test, to see if there is any damage. We schedule both tests immediately. I am on such a high, now that I have learned I don’t have MS - I am hoping I have a Vitamin B12 deficiency and not have CIS either! I know, I know. Never count your chickens and all. But I am elated and willing and able to take any and all tests necessary to finally know where I stand healthwise.

I will see the good doctor in about 10 days. I will have had both tests and he will have the results by then. Fingers crossed…

“You don’t have MS,” says the doctor. “You have CIS.”

CIS? CIS? Isn’t that a TV show? What is CIS?

The doctor tells me CIS is Clinically Isolated Syndrome. Basically, I had one “attack” and should I not have another attack, nor have any more lesions on future MRI’s, that is hopefully where I will remain. I am so happy, I all but leap off the examining table and into the doctor’s arms. I immediately start in with a barrage of questions. I am almost childlike and giddy with excitement, not having expected this good news. The doctor is very patient in answering my questions and truly happy himself to have shared this good news with me.

For some reason, when the PA leaves, the door accidentally locks. My husband and I hear the neurologist struggling with the doorknob trying to get in, so we open the door for him. The doctor immediately cracks a joke about going to extremes not to be seen by him. I like him right away. I find myself staring at him, trying to see what a person with MS looks like. Then I realize what an idiotic thing I am doing, as if there is actually a “look”. Duh.

We shake hands and he tells me he has looked through all my records, test results and MRI images. Although I am waiting for a definite MS confirmation, I sense he is about to tell me something else. He does…

I thought I would mix things up a bit and take this opportunity to write about something happy…the holidays. I think skipping a day of the doom and gloom that I had been experiencing does the heart good. I would first like to thank all the people who took the time out to leave a comment for me. It was so nice to read all the well-wishers messages. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

So for all of you out there who celebrate the holiday - I wish you and your families a very Merry Christmas, filled with love, joy, and much happiness.

I arrive at the MS Center. I am the only one in the waiting area. Is this a good sign or a bad sign? There are MS brochures and articles everywhere. The center is brand-spanking new and beautiful. My name is called and my husband and I walk into an exam room. We meet the PA (that’s physician’s assistant for those of you who don’t know). She is very welcoming and very bright - this girl knows her stuff. I tell her I am there for a second opinion; I had just recently been diagnosed with MS.

As in my first exam with my first neurologist, I am instructed to do several in-office, quickie tests. Walking in a straight line. Walking backwards. Resisting my leg being pushed up and down. Same with my feet. I watch her finger go back and forth in front of my eyes. This series of tests went on for some time. I felt a little foolish doing some of them, but I know it is necessary.

Then we talk history. I swear, I mention every little thing that has ever happened to me, stopping short of saying I once broke a fingernail. I am asked where I grew up. I am asked what my lifestyle choices are: what do I eat, drink, do I take meds or vitamins, do I exercise, etc.? Already, this second exam and questioning far exceeds my initial exam.

The PA takes my MRI images and medical records from my first neurologist and tells me she will be showing them to the doctor and will be back with him in a few minutes. Why are those minutes always the longest of your life?

After many days of searching for the right neurologist, a certain doctor’s name is mentioned several times. This is a good sign. Kind of like seeing a lot of cars parked outside a restaurant you have never been to and want to try. I call his office. I am told that if I were to see him in his actual office, there would be a bit of a wait. Then I am told if I see him in the “center”, I could see him in two days. Two days? Did I dial the right number? What doctor can see you in two days? And what is the “center”?

The center, I am told, is a brand-new facility that caters strictly to MS patients. Holy cow! I hit the jackpot! To add to my amazement, I am told the neurologist himself has MS. Who better to see? I feel like I am dreaming.

I immediately make an appointment, promise to bring my medical records and MRI images, and repeatedly and profusely thank the nurse on the other end. For the first time in many weeks, I am happy and feel hopeful.

I am having hard time accepting I have MS. After doing so much research on the internet, I feel like I just don’t fit the mold. For some reason, my symptoms seem mild in comparison to what others with MS have. I feel if I truly did have MS, then I should be in way worse shape than I am in now and should have a great more difficulty walking. According to all I’ve read online, I got off pretty easy. My heart went out to each and every person who posted about how they deal with with MS in their everyday lives. I realize MS affects everyone differently and is a mystery in general, but that inner voice is telling me something is just not right

I decide it’s time for a second opinion. Not just any second opinion. I am going to ask around until I find THE neurologist to go to see. I want the one who has a six-month wait before you walk through the door. Okay, maybe not. But I do want a neurologist who specializes in MS. I figure between word of mouth, making some phone calls, the yellow pages, and the internet, I will find my neurologist! I am a woman with a mission!