About a year and a half ago, my left arm started going numb. Within five minutes, my right arm followed. By the next day, both my legs joined them.
The doctor thought it might be a virus (a reasonable diagnosis pertaining to a healthy, 48 year old man). It didn't get better, it didn't get worse. I had a physical and Cat scans and MRIs looking for nerve problems, circulation problems, whatever, and everything looked great. The neurologist sent me to a physical therapist.
But I still had no feeling. Well, some feeling, but more like the tingling prickly feeling you get when your leg has gone to sleep. And, thankfully, it still hadn't gotten perceptibly worse.
From my reading, thank God I didn't have pain or loss of strength--two symptoms that might point to multiple sclerosis, a nerve disease that has no known cause, and no known cure.
About a week ago, my left arm went dead. It was a struggle to write, even a struggle for me to keep my arm anywhere except hanging limply by my side. A couple days later, pain was in my now-terrifyingly-numb feet.
And that's when I started to freak out.
The neurologist said it was time for the MRI of the brain, which would either rule out MS, or rule it in.
Needless to say, it's been a trying few days awaiting the MRI.
I know it's not a death sentence if it comes out as MS, but it's no fun either. My physical and cognitive abilities will gradually decline (most readings say it may be up to 20 years before MS takes complete control), with episodes generally becoming more severe, both in terms of duration and intensity.
And although I rationalize that I'm coming to grips with the possibility of having it, and that my support group--especially my selfless and wonderful wife--will minimize its effects, my random crying when I watch the snow fall, or hug my bride say otherwise.
So, if you're religious, say a prayer for me, but please don't feel sorry for me. I'll be okay.
It'll just take me a while to realize that.
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