Getting Back on Track

I don't know what's going on with me. I haven't been doing my injections for two-weeks now and I can't really blame it on forgetfulness. To be honest, I've been avoiding it. I'd gotten so used to being "normal" again over the summer, when I was off medication for two-months, that it made it even harder for me to pick up and begin again. This medication has to be injected every day and it leaves me feeling sore for the rest of the day (and sometimes week). It's a pain (literally), so you can't blame me for not wanting to do it...right?

Wrong. This is my life that I'm trying to save and I really am ridiculous for not taking it seriously. I can't give myself any credit.

Unfortunately, this fact didn't dawn on me until today. When I first got on this new medication in August, I requested that the medication company have a mentor with MS contact me for moral support and additional information. A 55 year old woman contacted me and told me about how she had been diagnosed at a time when there was no medication for MS. She joined the trial for the medication in the 90's, and there was not turning back for her. She also told me about three different occasions when she had experienced episodes that left her wheelchair-bound and unable to feed herself. Luckily, she recovered but she believes it had a lot to do with her persistence in administering the medication.

So, along with avoiding the injections, I had also been avoiding this woman's calls. I didn't expect her to keep in touch with me, so when she called once every two weeks, I was overwhelmed. I'm tired of being reminded that I have MS. After missing yet another injection this morning, I was surprised when the mentor called me from a different number this afternoon. She told me she had been worried about me and wanted to check-in (sweet, right?). I was flattered and reluctantly admitted to her that I hadn't been administering my injections as I should.

After admitting this, my mentor proceeded to lay me out. She asked me what was going on...did I care about my future? Did I care enough to give my body a chance to fight this disease? She told me again what she had been through and told me that this very well could happen to me as well if I don't get serious.

"It's time for you to GROW UP, Jessica," she said. "We have to do things we don't want to do in life, and this is one of them. Do you want to wake up one day, unable to walk, see or feed yourself, and realize you never gave yourself a fair chance?"

She shocked me. I had only spoken to this woman once but her compassion and anger surprised and flattered me. This tough love was exactly what I needed. I got off the phone tearful and angry at myself for not taking this seriously. I know the risks, have experienced scary symptoms (not nearly as severe as this woman's, but with the potential to be) and had proceeded as if I didn't care. I raced back to my room and did my injection immediately, promising myself I would do better and probably get counseling soon if my attitude doesn't change.

I'm going to do better and start getting serious about my life. I know things can get overwhelming but my health should obviously be a first priority. She recommended that I make a rule that, no matter what, I would not brush my teeth in the morning until I did my injection. Knowing that I would never dare to leave the dorm without brushing my teeth, I think this will help me prioritize.

I fell of track a little, but I feel like this woman calling me was God's gift to me today. She was the only one that could have given me that message and made it sink in. And although I've never met her, she helped me to get back on track.