25 years ago… it began

 Day 132

March 10th, 2024

Today, we will take a break from our regularly scheduled program.

Twenty-five years.

I still remember the day like it was yesterday. I woke up with double vision. I also remember that, at first, my parents did not take me seriously and thought I was lying to get out of driver's Ed that day. The previous week, I almost caused a pretty bad accident at a bustling intersection. It scared the shit out of me. 

I also remember finding it funny as hell. My parents, not so much. I went to work with them as I awaited seeing a doctor. We first went to a pediatrician, so I did not know I was 16. From there, I had a CAT scan done, and nothing was found. The two-month journey began that day. 

I started seeing a neurologist, and the testing began. Nothing came back in the initial tests; everything looked fine. At the time, I was dating someone that did not last. She claimed that god came to her in a dream and said we shouldn't date. That hurt. Years later, she apologized for that. I found it weird and unnecessary, but oh well.

The scariest things to come from this were a spinal tap, trying to kill myself, and Dad asking for directions at a shady gas station on the south side of Chicago. The spinal tap was scary because I wouldn't say I liked needles, and the idea of a giant needle taking fluid out of my spine was scary. I was dumb and asked to see the needle. I thought that killing myself would ease the pain that my parents were going through in dealing with my situation. I didn't go through with it, but I would revisit that one more time later in life. I still found it funny, yet annoying. 

I also lost most of my friends but gained a true best friend, and I will always love and appreciate Aaron. He's my brother from another mother, and even though life put us on different paths, I know I can count on him. My one regret with him was the time we drifted apart as friends. I cared more about making money and moving up to a job that didn't give to shit for me and still doesn't. Yes, it's the same line of work as it was back then—theater worker. Ugh, you would think I'd move on by now.

The trips to Chicago were always fun because the University of Chicago Hospital was in the damn ghetto on the south side. I fondly remember the neighborhoods looking like they came from a TV show. The first time up there, we got lost, drove too far, and stopped at a shady gas station to get directions. Bulletproof glass windows and a man selling something from a guitar case should have been enough to get out of dodge. Nope, my dad gets out of the car and asks the guitar case man where to go. I also saw my first prostitutes on the trip; that was a riot. I was sixteen, and with my parents, nothing happened.

I saw Dr. Barry Arnason. I loved the man, and he was able to diagnose me. It took another 24 years to get the same experience I had again. He sponsored my new neurologist. I cried at that appointment because I finally felt at ease with having MS, just like Dr. Arnason gave me. 

Do I regret anything outside of putting work first to cope with things and losing friendships? Nope. Do I wish I could change anything? Yes and no. I would have dialed back caring for work, healed my dating wounds, been more social, and found a way to stay in Muscatine working at the Palms. I will always respect Fridley Theaters for how they were to me after my father died. It was the best theater I've worked at. I still hold out for a reunion, but I do not see that ever happening.

The no is because I learned from every experience, shaping me into who I am now. I love who I am. I couldn't imagine if it would be better or worse than now. It has taken decades to get over things and to begin loving myself again instead of feeling pity for myself. 

Here's to the next 25 years! Hopefully, by then, we will be able to cure this.