Multiple Sclerosis Sucks!

It has been quite awhile since my last post, but once again, Multiple Sclerosis came up when my life was going great and kicked my butt. My nursing job was offered back to me in June after I left a year ago because of this disease. I love nursing so much but it is a very physical job. My co-workers quickly picked up on my left leg drag when I get tired and accommodate me in so many ways. Fortunately, this Urgent Care is very compassionate, understanding, and willing to work with me when MS rears its ugly head.
A little background might be helpful to understand how this all began. In 1999, I began EMT classes and had visions of becoming a Paramedic. I love emergency medicine and will admit, adrenaline rushes are addicting! During the course of my classes, it was required that I get a TB skin test and begin the set of three Hepatitis B vaccines. After the first Hep B shot, I got pretty sick and thought I had a bout of flu. The second shot brought me to my knees, literally. I didn't walk for nearly a month. I talked to my doctor, the CDC, and researched Hepatitis B vaccine and side effects. CDC's response was that there was no proof that Hep B caused any health issues. The Doctor told me I was depressed and put me on an antidepressant. My life continued on, as did my career as an EMT. A year later, the leg weakness began again. I went back to the doctor and he sent me on to the first of several neurologists. Did I mention I despise Neurologists? This neurologist heard my symptoms and that these began after my Hep B vaccine. He told me that I should try another antidepressant because the one I was on was obviously not working anymore. Once again, I followed the doctor's orders and began the new antidepressant. To make a long story short, this pattern continued through four neurologists over a five year period and the primary doctor sent me to a rheumatologist in this span of time, too. The bills from the neurologists obviously were not sufficient! By this time, I truly was depressed and so tired of hearing there was nothing wrong with me, yet no testing was done to determine this.
During the summer of 2004, I spent the entire night on the ambulance for two separate calls for motor vehicle accidents. When we pulled into town after the second accident, I thought the exhaustion and nausea could be accredited to the physical work involved with both calls and the growling of my stomach. I went home and went straight to bed. This was the beginning of six full weeks of vertigo, loss of balance, and weeks spent on the bathroom floor. If I lifted my head, the room began to spin, and the vomitting began. I told my husband I wasn't going to the doctor or a neurologist again. This was all in my head and this too shall pass. When the vomitting finally stopped and the room only spun when I turned my head, I decided I needed to find another doctor. I went to a general medicine doctor in Gillette. I still had no balance and it was very obvious. The doctor immediately noted the nystagmus, the lack of balance, and other neurological deficits. She said that I was experiencing a severe vertigo episode, but that she felt there was something neurological going on with me. I began to cry and told her I was not going to another neurologist. She said she would order a MRI of my brain and we would come up with a plan of action after that. After the MRI results were sent to Dr. Thomas, she called and said she needed a spinal tap. She would set up an appointment after the results of the spinal tap came back. Did I mention I despise needles, especially in my spine? I went anyway and had the spinal tap. A day later, my doctor called and said she would like to see me and I should bring my husband. I knew she found something and my imagination went wild. That was a long 24 hour period. The next day I was told that the lumbar puncture showed I had oligoclonal bands in my spinal fluid and lesions in my brain. I had multiple sclerosis. My mother came to the appointment along with my husband, and my Mom began to cry while I sat there and listened to the doctor as she told me I needed to find a neurologist. That last statement was the thing that nearly made me burst into tears. When we left the doctor's office, my Mom asked me why I wasn't more upset, why I was acting like I didn't hear the doctor. I took a deep breath and told my Mom that I finally had a name for what was wrong with me. And yes, it was all in my head and in my spine, but I now had a name for what was wrong with me, something to fight against, and something to treat with medicines! Needless to say, that was easier said than done.