My MS Bully and Me

Credit: C King As a Coach, I sometimes use the Kubler-Ross curve when clients are facing some kind of transition. Having worked with the model for a number of years, I've more recently u sed it with those newly-diagnosed with a chronic condition. However, over the years, I've also come to  a few realisations that help deepen the understanding of the model, including around my own interactions with it. The Curve is not always linear I've always heard the Curve described by others as going from Point A to Point B. You experience shock and gradually work your way through the emotional stages toward acceptance, as if a simple and straightforward process: "Right, you've reached acceptance, congratulations!" As with others hearing the news of a diagnosis for the first time, I went through each of the emotional stages one by one but I'm not sure that in nearly fourteen years, I have ever accepted MS in either body or in life. I acknowledg...

© C King This week is the ten year anniversary of my MS diagnosis. Having a diagnosis anniversary is unlike any other. You don’t celebrate. There are no gifts.  It’s a reminder of how much you’ve lost and how far you’ve come. You remember it with both sadness and hope. For me, it’s been an opportunity to reflect. Of course, I’d be lying if some of this didn’t involve thinking about where I was as a person ten years ago. No fatigue, lots of energy, virtually no pain (other than the relapse confirming diagnosis) and living day to day. I never felt the need to look back and had no concerns about my future. I even wore heels. I was diagnosed two months into my marriage and well into the mindset of having children; not so much a want as it was a need. Even then, I had other parallel health conditions, such as PCOS. Professionally, I was in demand and at the peak of my career; very much an expert in my field.   When you reflect, it’s hard not to revisit the...

I've previously discussed disclosing in a work context, and I think there's still quite a bit to delve into, however today I'd like to focus on disclosure to friends and family. In many ways, this is a much harder task than disclosing to an employer. Generally, in the latter context you only have to do this once, unless you decide to tell colleagues or change roles. Telling strangers about your MS is a much easier proposition. Telling people close to you can be frightening: in the short moment that you've told someone about your MS, they have formed an opinion, felt several emotions and the fight or flight response may have kicked in. I don't imagine there being any fisticuffs, I don't mean this. It is more that there might be an awkward silence or an uncomfortable air until you're able to reassure and inform them. Over the years, I've found that it's very difficult for family and friends to really see things to the extent that those that see me ...

I woke up one wintery October morning having had a largely successful, but particularly stressful, working week. This morning was a little different. I could feel my feet and legs, but some parts had pins and needles, others numbness. After having a mild panic for a few moments, I put this down to a potential infection and continued with my day. Having convinced me to go to a doctor to check this out, my husband joined me for what would be an appointment with a locum who was both dismissive and patronising, and who left me with the words "I can't find anything wrong with you; this is very subjective." She then proceeded to give a dismissive laugh and suggest I see a neurologist in a few months. I will not bore you with the details but after further wranglings, I decided to go to a private doctor (please don't judge me!), where I was prodded and poked via various tests. Just before Christmas 2008, I was given a firm diagnosis. The MRI evidence suggested it was ...