If MS Is A Gift, Where Do I Go To Return It?

My mom always told me I had a bad attitude.

When I was a kid I never understood what she meant by that, but now I not only see what she was saying, I'm starting to think she may have been right. Particularly around the holidays, so many people seemed to be recounting the blessings conferred by MS, or some other chronic condition. It makes them a better person, brings them closer to God, deepens their appreciation for life, family, whatever. I suspect I should find these essays inspirational and thought-provoking. I find them thought-provoking, all right. They provoke me to wonder, "Are you f%#king nuts?"

I do not see anything good about having MS. Nothing. I do not feel blessed in any way. I do not see it as an opportunity to become a better person. I'm perplexed by the general assumption that, when you have a chronic disease, it's important to maintain a positive attitude. Why is that? Can somebody point me to some real, convincing evidence that positive thinking makes a rat's patoot worth of difference, to anything?

I'm not talking about wallowing in self-pity, here, making yourself and everyone around you miserable. I don't see any point in that, either (although I admit I do it sometimes. I try not to wallow, but sometimes I put my feet in and swish them around a little). But isn't it positive enough to take one day at a time, enjoy what you can, appreciate the good stuff, and just slog through the rest?

Projecting a relentlessly positive attitude is hard work. I know. I do it all the time. Most people who ask me how I am don't really want to know, not really. "I'm fine..." I say, "I'm good...", and we talk about something else. I wonder if forcing yourself to be artificially positive might even have a negative effect. I find it very stressful to pretend I'm OK when I'm not.

Inspirational affirmations make me itch. "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass; it's about learning to dance in the rain." "When life hands out lemons, squeeze out a smile."

"I have MS, MS does not have me."

I admit I'm being deliberately obtuse, here. I realize that the people who say this probably just mean they are determined to maintain a life outside of MS. They will not let the disease define who they are. That's all good. I try to do it myself. But every time I see this, what I hear is "If I fight hard enough, I can beat MS. I can keep it from changing my life."

Maybe you can. I hope you do. But I couldn't. MS has totally kicked my sorry butt. Maybe I should have fought harder. Maybe I wasn't positive enough.


I'm pretty sure MS has not made me a better person. When I finally had to retire from work, one of my coworkers told me, "You've been an inspiration to all of us as we see your courage and grace." It was such a nice thing to say, I only wish it were true. Have you ever noticed that obituaries always talk about fighting a brave battle against disease? I'm afraid mine will have to say I was a pitiful spectacle, a total cringing whining craven coward. I'm not being brave. If there were another option, I would take it. I'm just not aware of any.

I've even had people tell me "You're a survivor." I guess I am. We all are, aren't we? Until we aren't. Then we're dead. To borrow a headline from The Onion, "Despite Best Efforts of US Medical Profession, Death Rate Remains Obstinately High at 100%." Does being a survivor, when the only alternative is being dead, make me a better person? I'm not seeing it.

Maybe it's just my bad attitude.

-- Mme. Crabbypants