A New Hope (part II)

Well, I feel a little anticlimactic writing this tonight... much of the excitement seems to have worn off... darnit when that happens! Ah well... I imagine I can muster up a little of the emotion I experienced (in waves, mind you) yesterday evening.

Well, for those who may not know what the hope I'm referring to entails, a brief synopsis would bring to light the following facts: I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2003; I have been seeing a neurologist who is a very kind person but not an MS specialist and is more than a little freaked out by my specific case (leaving me in a constant state of "freaked out" myself); I have had 7 or 8 significant relapses in less than 3 years and have taken powerful doses of (evil) steroids each time (and am, most likely, about to start on yet another bout... curses!); and I have spent the last few months attempting to find a neurologist specializing in MS.

Well, after said months of searching... and with the help of some amazing individuals (who will soon receive their very own written tributes)... I was referred by Dr. Elliot Frohman -- one of the number one MS specialists in the world, who just happens to live and practice in Dallas, but who is also severely over-booked and regrettably unable to take my case -- to a Dr. Ellen Marder. Dr. Marder, it turns out, has been practicing neurology -- with an emphasis in multiple sclerosis -- for some 20 years and is, more importantly, accepting new patients.

Fast forward to yesterday afternoon...
At 3:30pm on September 11, 2006, I met with my new neurologist for the first time... and consequently was presented with a hope I haven't experienced in almost three years. Dr. Marder spent half an hour asking me question after question (whereas my former doctor never seemed to ask me anything other than "how are you feeling?"... oh I don't know... "like crap. anything we can do about that?" sorry... my bitterness creeps out on occasion). Through her questions, Dr. Marder was able to draw conclusions about my case that even I hadn't previously considered. She also listened attentively as I expressed my frustration with the lack of care I feel I've received over the past few years and the depression and anxiety caused by my inability to do so many things I (not so long ago) loved to do.

She then spent the next half hour running through an extensive list of (several) possible treatment options (alternative to the one I've been prescribed over the last 3 years... and the one I long ago lost any faith in). She then asked me to come back in 3 weeks and promised we would stay in touch in the meantime. As I and my precious Mere (one of the amazing individuals who will receive a written tribute in the near future) got up to leave the office, Dr. Marder looked me in the eye and assured me that we will spend the next few months doing whatever it takes to bring me back to normal (and she said this with a sincerity that gave me a shred of faith -- one that I haven't previously known -- that this might just be possible).

Nothing tremendous has happened yet... I am still having difficulties with my vision... I still get dizzy if I look up or stand abruptly or turn my head too quickly... I still can't feel a darn thing in my left side... and I still randomly transition from sleeplessness to utter exhaustion. But in that moment... when my new neurologist (who actually seems to know what she's doing... and does what she's doing with a positive energy) said those words... tears threatened to betray the doubt I've carried since October 2003... and the hope I'm terrified to even consider embracing now.