Introducing Olivia, a courageous individual whose personal journey with multiple sclerosis sheds light on the challenges faced by millions grappling with this enigmatic disease. Olivia’s resilience and firsthand experience offer invaluable insights, not only for myself but for countless others navigating similar struggles. Here, we share her compelling story.
The beginning of a personal journey
At the age of 29, I encountered a series of confusing health issues that ultimately led to a life-changing diagnosis. It all started five years ago when the right side of my face suddenly went numb and it spread all the way up to half of my neck. Concerned, I sought medical attention but was diagnosed with a sinus infection, a condition I was familiar with. However, the weight of the numbness on my face was strange. having frequent sinus infections, I knew what it felt like. I’ve never been like this. With a course of antibiotics, the symptoms subsided over time, but after a long period.
The beginning of concern
A year later, I experienced another alarming episode. The first three fingers of my hand have inexplicably lost feeling and mobility. Working at an accounting firm, I initially attributed it to occupational factors such as excessive writing or even activities like hanging out with my friends and playing long card games. The constant hum of the air conditioner reinforced my suspicion that the climate conditions might be to blame. Reluctant to see a doctor, I opted for rest and isolation, hoping the symptoms would fade over time. Fortunately, they did, reinforcing my belief that I was simply overexerting myself socially. There have been a few strange symptoms but everything passed and I didn’t think about that anymore.
It’s seriously happening
After enduring six months of escalating discomfort, I found myself battling nightly headaches that only seemed to intensify as the hours passed. Despite resorting to over-the-counter pain relief, the throbbing persisted relentlessly, rendering the passing night a torment. By morning, I was compelled to call my workplace, explaining that I wouldn’t be able to make it in due to the excruciating headache and my urgent need to seek medical attention.
Upon reaching the doctor’s office, my dishevelled appearance and haggard expression caught the physician’s attention immediately, prompting an expedited admission process. Concern etched on his face, the doctor inquired about my pain management strategy, cautioning against further self-medication to avoid potential complications. Desperately, I recounted my futile attempts to ease the pain, compounded by bouts of vomiting induced by its severity. Moved by my plight, the doctor swiftly initiated an infusion, the contents of which remained a mystery to me, yet gradually bringing relief from the relentless agony.
What followed were a series of meticulous examinations and tests, each conducted with utmost care and diligence. It became apparent that my condition warranted a more comprehensive approach to treatment. Consequently, the doctor made the decision to keep me under observation, resulting in an unexpected and prolonged hospital stay spanning over the course of ten days.
During my time in the hospital, I underwent a battery of tests, consultations, and treatments aimed at identifying the underlying cause of my debilitating headaches. The attentive care and expertise of the medical team provided a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty, as they worked tirelessly to alleviate my suffering and restore my health.
And then everything changed
I broke the news to my parents, explaining my hospitalization and the necessity of undergoing numerous tests. Initially, I had no inkling that my stay would extend to ten days, and possibly even longer. As the days dragged on, both my parents’ apprehension and my own deepened, exacerbated by the lack of updates until the exhaustive examinations concluded. From various screenings to unfamiliar procedures like magnetic resonance imaging, the medical process was a whirlwind of unfamiliarity.
Then came the pivotal moment, the unveiling of truth, the reckoning with reality. The doctor’s solemn words hung heavy in the air as he delivered the diagnosis: multiple sclerosis, an autoimmune disease. My mind reeled at the revelation, grappling with the enormity of what lay ahead. I found myself blurting out questions, desperate for clarity. How long would it take to heal? But the answer I received left me staggered, incredulous. No, I couldn’t accept it. I wanted to rewind time, to undo whatever choices had led me to this juncture.
Was it my exuberant lifestyle, my penchant for socializing that had brought this upon me? But why should I be punished for enjoying life? I’d finished school, and secured a job—surely, I deserved a bit of happiness. I’d always been the life of the party, the one who revelled in every moment. Was this diagnosis to be the end of that joyous existence? I found myself grappling with a torrent of emotions, questioning the fairness of it all.
A heartfelt conversation ensued with my doctor, filled with words of solace and encouragement, though they fell on deaf ears. “Why me?” echoed relentlessly in my mind. What had I done to deserve this fate? My parents, upon learning of my diagnosis, undoubtedly grappled with their own turmoil. Yet, whether they shielded their emotions from me or I chose not to perceive them, I felt a profound sense of isolation, despite their unwavering support.
Love happened suddenly
Time marched on, ushering in days, months, and years of uncertainty. Amidst moments of courage and doubt, I ultimately found happiness. Enter the man who would later become my husband, a steadfast presence by my side throughout the journey. His brother, married to a doctor living with multiple sclerosis, provided a unique understanding of the challenges ahead. Strangely, I had never perceived any sign of her condition.
Was it fate that brought us together, or was he simply an exceptional human being? Together, we welcomed a precious daughter into our lives, a beacon of light amidst the darkness. And amidst it all, I diligently pursued therapy, a lifeline that, coupled with love, has kept me afloat. Remarkably, after five years, not a single relapse or attack has occurred—a testament, perhaps, to the healing power of love.
Olivia
