Editor's Note: There are many medications in use in varying parts of the world to moderate some of the effects of MS. The following essay represents the personal views of the writer. As in all things with regard to YOUR medical care, PLEASE CONSULT WITH YOUR PERSONAL PHYSICIAN before deciding on the course of treatment that is right for you.
"You Can't
Keep an Old Guy Down!"
by Bernadine Whitaker
My husband, Rev. W. Orin Whitaker, was 44 when first diagnosed with MS. The year was 1970, and he was serving a Congregational (United Church of Christ) church in Connecticut. His doctors told him, "Take it easy. Rest. Don't get stressed."
A minister of a church with 1,000 members take it easy? And rest? Like on Sundays?
As the years went by and his walking worsened, Orin didn't take it easy. He did make adjustments. For example, there were seven steps up to the pulpit in our church. When he no longer could manage the climb, he preached from an armchair just below the pulpit. "The word of God doesn't require a specific location," he maintained.
And to get the word across, he often used funny stories in his sermons...
"My dad liked to smoke cigars, to my mother's great dismay. So finally he told her he was going to quit. For seven years there was nary a wisp of smoke in the house. But one day, for old time's sake, he decided to light up. When mom saw him puffing again she exclaimed, "I knew you couldn't do it!"...
Orin was determined to carry on as long as it seemed reasonable. And many in the congregation told him, "You're an inspiration. If you can do it, so can we!"
For awhile he got around with a quad cane, but soon realized he could conserve his energy by using a wheelchair. In a church storage room he found an old steel push-type with a green canvas seat. That old chair served him well, and he even took it to meetings in other churches.
In the days before the Americans with Disabilities Act was passed (1990), not many of these New England structures were accessible. In one church Orin visited he had to use a john in the cleaning supplies storeroom.
Eventually he had to be fitted for leg braces and toe lifts, and had hand controls put on his car. When he attended overnight or weekend conferences and had to bring books and luggage, clergy-friends assisted him. That was hardest — having to accept help from others.
When battery-powered chairs (scooters) came on the market, Orin soon bought one. His Amigo enabled him to continue working for several more years. The new machine often aroused curiosity, even envy. Like the day he was making calls in the pediatrics section of the local hospital. A young boy, who'd been watching Orin zip around, leaned out of his bed and hollered: "LUCK-EEE!"
After several falls and broken bones, plus cold and icy Connecticut winters, Orin and his doctors concurred that it was time he retired. He preached his last sermon there in December, 1982.
We moved to a small and somewhat accessible house we had built on Cape Cod. Retirement wasn't easy for him. But having been a commercial artist before entering the ministry, Orin turned to painting watercolors. Even after one bad MS exacerbation, which paralyzed his right arm and hand, he coped. His neurologist advised a conservative approach: just rest, and aspirin for any pain. About three months later, the arm and hand returned to normal, and he has had no recurrence.
Soon he was painting again. He still does watercolors, some of which he has sold and some have taken prizes in local competitions.
In the winter of 1994 we opted for a breather from cold weather, and rented a ground-level condo in Florida for a month. Near the condo was a lovely heated swimming pool. Once a fine swimmer (Orin grew up in Florida), he eyed it longingly as he watched me paddle around. Several of the other residents noticed and offered to assist him if he wanted to try the pool.
At first Orin declined, but after some pushing from me, he decided, "Why not!" The next day he scootered over to the pool's shallow end. With me lifting his legs, one at a time, down the steps of the pool, and the two men supporting his body, he made it into the water. After resting a minute, he took the plunge. Sure enough. By paddling his arms, he managed to stay afloat, even though his legs just dangled.
The next year we re-rented the condo, and the swimming came easier. In the years since, Orin's strength and mobility have improved so much he now gets in and out of the pool all by himself. He also does water aerobics, and walks in (but not ON) the water.
One day, back on the Cape, Orin's physiotherapist encouraged him to try using a walker or two canes. No problem! And so it has happened, after 20 years in a wheelchair, Orin is walking, even doing stairs, with just a cane. And in warm weather he wears sandals.
In summer we are swimming again in Cape ponds we frequented before MS struck, and at high tide Orin can manage the beach on Cape Cod Bay. For longer distances, he still uses the Amigo. But when we know the terrain and distance involved, he leaves the scooter at home.
Orin's doctors cannot explain his increased mobility. He has never taken any of the highly promoted medications for MS. Vitamins, yes. All of his neurologists, past and current, have affirmed this approach.
In Connecticut, Orin once tried acupuncture. The results were inconclusive, but he seemed to enjoy the treatments. "That's because the therapist looks like Sophia Loren," I would tease him.
We can't prove it, but we believe that the pool swimming is what precipitated Orin's significant improvement. We're thankful that the National MS Society encourages physical exercise and sponsors many programs, including Tai Chi.
Orin never gave up hope that he might walk again, and he continues to look for humor in his comings and goings...
A few years ago he was asked to perform a wedding on a Cape Cod beach. The town shellfish warden drove us over the sand in his all-terrain truck to the wedding-site. After carefully climbing out of the truck, Orin joined the bride's father. He had brought a plastic armchair for Orin to sit in. But just as the bridal party and guests were gathered, Orin and chair began sinking into the sand. The bride's dad quickly called for a slab of plywood to put under the chair. "We have to keep the minister afloat!" he exclaimed...
Now 76, Orin occasionally takes part in church events, but he does not claim any heavenly connections. Suffice it to say, we do believe in miracles...
finis
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