Part II: Into The Maze

Last week, in Part 1, I shared a bit about how Mandy and I got together, what our lives were like before MS, and how, after a cursory examination of Mandy’s numb arm while visiting my physician father, it was suggested to us that she might be exhibiting signs of MS. Now, to continue...

Taking my father’s advice, as soon as we returned home, Mandy made an appointment with our family physician. By the day of her appointment, the other arm was now going numb. The doctor performed a thorough examination; some of his tests designed to check for neurological impairment. Interestingly, it was he who told Mandy that she was experiencing weakness in her right leg; something that she was not aware of until that moment. With the testing done, he too stated that she might have MS.

He even offered to begin treating her for it with injectable drugs. At this early stage, and without a confirmed diagnosis, neither of us thought it a good idea for Mandy to begin a lifetime of MS drug therapy; we opted instead for her to see a neurologist.

We went home a bit confused, not to mention more than a little scared. Remember, we had not been together very long. I can only imagine Mandy’s thought process during those early months. She had sacrificed a lot to be with me, as I had to be with her. It was only natural for her to be both afraid for herself, given what was happening,  as well as afraid for us, wondering if I would stand by her when it would have been so much simpler to leave, or to ask her to leave. Despite my assurances, did either of us truly know for certain? Probably not.

The downward spiral continued, slowly at first, then quicker. Even before her first appointment with the neurologist, Mandy had become a shell of former self. She could hardly walk. I’ll never forget... two of the kids were visiting when, just days later, Mandy began to experience profound weakness in both her arms, then in her legs. Within days walking had become near impossible. When that happens today, we both know that it is the MS. Familiarity with the monster has tempered our fear and allows us to simply shift into different roles. Back then, that was not yet the case.

The kids watched in near-silent horror as their mother slid into a sort of hell that nothing in life had prepared them to witness. They didn’t know me very well back then, leaving us to wonder what was going on in their heads as they watched my ineffective attempts to care for their mother. We had no experience with the monster. We didn’t have a confirmed diagnosis. Quite simply, we did not know, but we all quietly feared, that Mandy was dying.

As for me, I was in a state of confusion. I hadn’t bargained for this turn of events, but then again, who does? I didn’t know what was happening. The only thing I was sure of was that I owed this woman. She had risked all on our love and I could not, and would not, allow her to have done that in vain. I guess it was then that I became, unknowingly, a caregiver.