"Gratitude 101"


by Monica Petter



I hadn’t thought about it before. No, I had gone about my everyday in my own normal way. It never really seemed important. I always look good, so no one asks me how it feels. Not until a lady I knew who cares about me posed the question one day. What does MS feel like?


First, let me give you a definition of Multiple Sclerosis. It is a disease of the central nervous system riddled with unpredictability and no cure. It affects each person differently, but has 4 major courses. But, how does it feel. Physically, that would be impossible for me to describe. Most of my symptoms are invisible, so I look good. If you ran into me at a social gathering, you’d never take away with you that I had anything wrong with me other than a warped sense of humor. So, defining living with MS by how I physically feel would merely scratch the surface.


MS is like your best friend. You love her like yourself. You take care of her when she needs you. Except she betrays you on a regular basis. My body is my best friend and my worst enemy. When it betrays you, it is like your best friend stabbing you in the back. You love her, but the sadness, the pain, the disbelief are impossible to fathom. You go into denial. This isn’t happening, for who would want to think their best friend could do this?


Yet, you learn to accept it. You make peace with it, you agree to disagree. You forgive. Then you deal with this mess. You grieve for the things lost. Then, one day, your friend doesn’t hurt anymore. The sunrise looks a bit more vivid; the moon more alluring. You find joy in the simple gifts of walking each and every morning. Your heart expands a few sizes for your friend finally remitted. She finally changed her ways.


But, old ways are tempting. She is unpredictable. She seduces you into thinking that you are this wonderfully invincible soul. You trust her again. You love her again. Only to find her cut you deeper each time she betrays you. Each twist of the knife pushes buttons of determination. You try to outsmart her. You get angry with her. You end up only hurting yourself. Finally, after futile attempts at running against the wind, you are tired. Your eyes are moist again.


Humanity swiftly slaps you in the face. She shows you and all your potential, all your gifts. The things you take for granted or give yourself little credit, for your confidence is wasted on showing others their beauty, never looking into your own. She is your friend again. You forgive her. You climb mountains, you write your soul, and you chase the wind. You leave your mark. You leave your own goals in the dust.


She reminds you of the simple joys of silence, nightingales, the smell of fall leaves, and the intensity of the moment. For today is all that matters. Tomorrow is no guarantee. When there is quiet in the abyss of your soul, you listen. You listen to the voices that guide you. You grab hold of your fiber. You live. You thank that shrew of a friend for making you the compassionate, loving, forgiving person others will never truly understand. That’s ok. As long as they feel you, that is what matters.


So to my friends who ask me, “what does MS feel like?” It feels like the hand of God. It feels like appreciation. But mostly, I’d say it feels like humble gratitude - the poor man on the street finally loving himself.


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