The Choice

He had not always been this way. Although he had tolerated what he considered to be some small difficulties after his MS diagnosis, it wasn't until his "lost arm" experience that he had learned that it could be a lot worse. Looking back, he had to admit that he had only marginally endured that miserable 'lost arm' period of his life, but endured it he had. After moving into a completely new environment during that time, he was finding no escape from the majority of his life concerns. He was prescribed different treatments from different neurologists, but none of the treatments made him feel like any real improvement was happening. Nothing seemed to work. The only thing that seemed to work for him was the small comfort he had acquired by knowing he had possibly helped his children; his move from Seattle to Central Texas had reduced the odds for them contracting MS. It was only after this transitory experience that he appreciated that it was really his own choice as to how he would adapt to the apparently unfair situations that he was destined to face his entire life. From experiences like this, he had learned to at least try to be optimistic about any negative situations he might face. “Wow. You’re so brave,” Rob responded with a dry smile, “To tell you the truth, it was probably more dangerous for you to drive here to get the infusion than it is for you to accept the risk of having the infusion." "You're probably right," Brian said, "but driving aside, as much of a pain that MS is, I think the risk of death that comes with taking this drug is definitely worth the satisfaction of knowing that I'm doing the best thing that I can to slow down the progression of the disease." "I agree," said Rob, "I know people with the attitude that if MS continues to take over their body, they think they’d rather be dead anyway." He didn't say it, but he was referring to himself. During the time he had lost the use of his arm, he vividly recalled being that type of person. That was definitely a time when he could care less about life. He wasn't suicidal, but he didn't care to live inside the prison that his own body was slowly becoming. This led to depression, and depression was probably a large part of the reason that his family decided to move.