What I know:
I had a spinal tap on Monday. Let’s discuss how fun that was. Actually, it wasn’t bad except for the part where I fainted. It didn’t even hurt, so I’m not sure why exactly I fainted. It was after the first numbing needle went in. I got lightheaded and next thing I knew I was on the floor. I efficiently freaked my dad out; my mom was too chicken to go back with me.
The reason they use a spinal tap in the diagnosis of MS is for two reasons 1) Check for any viruses that I may have that could have caused this (things like Lyme Disease). 2) To check for the protein products that myelin (the protective covering for nerves in the brain- what is being attacked in the brain of an MS patient) breaks down into when it is attacked
They also did a blood test that day to check for anything else that it could possibly be (pretty sure this is the same blood test I had the first night in the hospital).
My neurologist called me on Thursday to tell me that it is definitely multiple sclerosis. I have a real diagnosis.
What this means:
She reminded me that it looks like I have had several clinically silent attacks. What this means is I have more lesions (so many that I’ve lost count; my chart says “multiple), but they are all located in areas of my brain not affecting life.
She told me that I didn’t have to start treatment right now if I didn’t want to. I can wait until my next attack.
That’s not me. I chose to start treatment as soon as I can. With the history of silent attacks, I don’t want to wait until my next obvious attack in a few years and have had 6 or 7 silent ones. The lesion volume will be higher, the attack could be worse and the disease will be further progressed. I would rather take something that may potentially lower the volume of lesions and potentially delay even the next silent attack.
Attack early and fight hard.
I was given a third medication option by the neurologist who did my spinal tap. It’s an injection 3 times/week. I’m not excited about that part (except I have a wonderful friend who has volunteered to do it for me once in a while). I am, however, ready for this journey; there is a reason I have this. I don’t know what it is, but I’m eager to find out.
Why this is actually a good thing:
I keep getting funny looks when I say this is a good thing. It sounds ridiculous at first, I know.
Had the spinal fluid not contained the protein or a virus, we wouldn’t be here. We would have to start all over again to try to figure out what the heck is wrong. As okay with everything as I have been, I’m kind of over being poked and prodded every week (the upside of that is my pain receptors are dying a quick death and I am now able to fall asleep when I get my eyebrows waxed).
We had a plan before I even had the spinal tap. I knew what I was going to do. The future may have been unknown, but at least I knew how I was going to attack it. Without a diagnosis, I had no plan. Now that I have a diagnosis, the future at least has a path I can follow.
The other reason this is a good thing is that I realize this could be so much worse. Going into UCSD that first day, I had no idea what to expect. Then they started talking brain tumors. No matter how disappointed I get that life is turning out like this, I will ALWAYS remind myself of that first night when they thought it might be a tumor; I’m lucky to have MS.