I don’t have a great deal on my mind……about my own MS. Shoot: I think I just dangled a participle, but anyway……..My mind doesn’t automatically turn to the culprit when I’m in remission. Although it has greatly impacted my life, it still does not dictate a great deal of who I am. And this could be because I am writing from the perspective of someone with a moderate case: I am in the middle stages of middle-of-the-road, neither-mild-nor-progressive, waxing-and-waning multiple sclerosis. Ask someone with progressive MS what they think about the condition and the answer could be completely different. It’s all a matter of perspective.
My non-MS friends see my condition from another perspective: as among one of the challenges our group faces. My good friend was recently diagnosed with lupus, and so she lives with a new perspective and she has completely changed my view of my own condition: I am not the only one with ongoing problems and this knowledge opens the door from a lonely, isolated existence to one of similar understanding. I’m so glad for this. A couple of my other friends face ongoing addiction problems and so their understanding is a bit different but nonetheless helpful. One does not always need a duplicate perspective to empathize. My sister-in-law gives me the biggest laugh when our bowel difficulties— she has the autoimmune condition ulcerative colitis— act up. Two people with very different personalities can still enjoy the spoils of a shared perspective.
In terms of the world at large: I never want to imagine that my multiple sclerosis is any bigger than the dot that is our planet within our solar system, within our galaxy, within the entire universe. The perspective of Earth from a million light years away is imperceptible. In space and time, my disease is but a blip on the radar. Back here on Earth I’d rather worry about the two recent American journalists who were wrongly imprisoned in North Korea. They certainly have bigger concerns than I do. Or tread lightly when I read Eli Wiesel’s Night, and know that I am safely tucked in at bedtime. These grave views throw my own perspective into perspective.
How do doctors view this chronic condition called MS? Do they fully sympathize with patients, or do they merely look for scientific evidence and concrete solutions? Would the perspective of an MS doctor afflicted with cancer change his demeanor towards his patients? I shudder to think of that multiple sclerosis doctor who absently treated me, all the while looking at life from his own distorted angle. And yet I didn’t see life from his exact perspective (and how could I?) I am now able to indulge him his inaccuracy. As for the people who represent those with multiple sclerosis: can we come to a shared, mutual perspective? Will we ever agree on the same values, needs, priorities, and programs? Can you— will you?— ever see through my mind’s eye? Will I ever know your true intentions and hopes for a world free of MS? I cannot currently see through your lens.
Will my own image of multiple sclerosis change? Well, sure. Everything changes and angles slant and rotate. Nothing is ever exactly the same, nor should it be. The knowing is all: I set my lens wide for perspective and deep for understanding.
