Embracing Big Changes in Life

At the end of October, I wrote about the prospect of losing Lytton to a mysterious illness. I had hoped to get more time with him as we thought we had a few options to manage his health. But towards the end of November, we had to do the compassionate thing and end his suffering. I learned a lot about embracing big changes in life during that time.

While I consider myself fortunate to have a few weeks to prepare for it, I am still in shock over the quickness he went from healthy to terminally ill. From the first sign of his illness to when we said goodbye was a month and a half. I prepared, but it’s hard to move that fast for such a substantial change.

Yet, significant life changes happen all the time. Our diagnosis. Buying a house. Losing a loved one. Finding someone new to love. The changes discussed in this post are the ones completely out of our control.

Change happens. Sometimes we can prepare ourselves for it, but often we cannot. What we can do is take the time to embrace the change. Regardless of whether you consider the change positive or negative, it’s going to happen regardless of your wishes. Rather than fight it, we find a way to work through it.

How Can Change Help You?

Change can help us, even if it’s unwelcome. I don’t know when I will reach the point where I can sincerely say losing Lytton helped me. Each day, I go through all the stages of grief as I try to move through my new normal.

Yet, I admit that losing him tested the effectiveness of the wellness journey I’ve made over the past few years. I did not need the confirmation that it works. But, the fact that I still haven’t experienced an exacerbation is proof that I am managing healthily. 

Lytton’s death reminded me of the impermanence of life. I pushed death to the back of my mind as something that happens to other people but hasn’t touched me. With that attitude, I did not appreciate everyone around me in the way I do now. I recognize that anyone can leave me permanently, with no explanation. 

Finally, it reminded me that change happens, and I can get through it. The last time I experienced a “negative” life shift was after my diagnosis, almost seven years ago. I regrouped and was eventually able to move forward. 

Change, whether it’s good or bad, can help you discover essential things:

  1. The importance of taking time for yourself. If you experience a life change, negative or positive, take some time to sit with it. 
  2. Self-care, again. The further I get into life, the more confirmation I get surrounding the importance of self-care. Self-care can be in celebration or to help calm oneself after the change.
  3. How resilient we are and why finding ways to adapt is essential. While we must accept an uncontrollable change, we don’t have to roll over. We can find ways to adapt and adjust to change. 
  4. Appreciate life before, during, and after the change. We can recognize what we had before, find ways to enjoy life as it is, and understand what life might be in the future.
  5. Finding the positive in the negative. It might take some time, but there’s always a silver lining even in the negative changes. You might find comfort knowing what’s going on with you, be at peace because a person no longer suffers, or allowed to try a new career opportunity.

Embracing Big Life Changes

The key, I’ve found, is to lean into the uncontrollable changes for better or for worse. There are some changes we can fight for, opportunities we can pursue even if the door keeps shutting. But often, significant changes are out of our hands. We cannot prevent the new direction our life goes in, so we can accept the outcome and find ways to adapt.

The first step is acceptance and embracing the big changes. Finding ways to adapt follow closely behind.

For me, while I would love to run out and find a Bombay kitten similar to Lytton, I am learning to reconnect with our other two cats as a form of acceptance. Lytton was such a significant presence in our household that often, the other two cats functioned like roommates we cared and fed. I am spending more time with them, whether they appreciate it or not, and loving on them.

After my diagnosis, I fought the information, choosing to be ignorant of my MS because it was too painful to acknowledge. Behaving this way did not improve my quality of life. But once I took steps to accept and adapt my reality, I found greater satisfaction with everything.

If there are negative feelings associated with significant life changes, it’s hard to accept and adapt, especially in what we feel is a timely manner. Remember to honor your timetable, but be open to acceptance as your goal once you’ve finished mourning (death or health change). 

Big changes are going to happen in life. We have two options when encountering change: embrace it or reject it. When we embrace the change, it allows us to heal and move forward. When we reject it, it can prolong our dissatisfaction and cause stress.

In the end, the decision is ours how we deal with change.


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Featured photo credit: Canva

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Checking In: MS Symptoms

This post was originally published in February 2018. I’ve updated it to include a follow up since the original publication.


What good is discussing diet and lifestyle changes if I don’t reveal the ongoing results?

Doing an honest self-assessment of any sort is hard, particularly when trying to find ways to manage an unmanageable disease. There’s a huge desire to make everything a “success” or engage in placebo effect-like thinking, but that isn’t always the case.

Overall, I feel like I am managing my MS better. Still, on a day-to-day basis, my mileage may vary because of various external factors.

Current Health Self-Check

Currently, I am not doing so well. Not necessarily because of the MS, but I have a weird seasonal head cold. Drippy nose, sore throat, and exhaustion. I can only assume that if a person without MS gets a virus like this, they may feel wiped out but can go about their daily lives with minimal interference.

With MS and any illness, I get so wiped out that getting out of bed is a hardship. Ash had to stay home until Jai went down for his morning nap on Tuesday because I was so worn out. I needed the extra couple of hours of sleep. This afforded me before I was able to start the day and take care of a toddler. Jai and I stayed in our PJs and read lots of books and minimized movement so I wouldn’t overdo it.

This is a crucial example of why getting sick with MS is “dangerous.” It won’t necessarily cause any physical harm. Still, infections are a significant cause of flare-ups, so there is a risk of needing to get steroids to treat the inflammation. I don’t get avoidant if I know someone is sick. Still, I do recognize that even a simple cold can knock me off my feet for a couple of days that might just inconvenience someone else.

I usually wouldn’t write about getting sick factoring into how I am currently feeling because I tend not to get sick all that often. Still, since having Jai, it has become a more common occurrence. 

Beyond the cold, I am feeling okay overall. There’s been some emotional disappointment in not being able to maintain my diet as strictly as I wanted. I am doing what is best for my overall health, and that is more important. My brain fog and memory issues haven’t lessened, but that may be because I am not doing enough mental exercises to help stimulate neuron repair.

Fatigue is still an issue, but not so much on the days that I am more active. I find high-cardio days mean that I have more energy throughout the day. On the days I only do yoga, there might be a more significant dip in energy by the afternoon.

Being completely honest: I haven’t noticed many changes since my last check-in after my diet reset. I feel more active, happier, less sluggish, but no apparent changes to my MS symptoms.

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Parenting with a Disability

This post was originally published in February 2018. I’ve updated it to include a follow up since the original publication.


This is the final week in a 3-week series on parenting observations. Week one is based on gentle parentingweek two is about parenting with compassion, and week three is about parenting with a disability.

These posts are based on my personal experiences as a parent and are not meant in any way to judge other parenting styles or decisions. I am offering my own research and conclusions as possible suggestions for others out there; therefore, these posts will be as objective as possible. When it comes to parenting: if the method isn’t abusive, there really isn’t a wrong way to parent your child. Be secure and do what works best for you and your family and ignore outside judgment.


For many people, parenthood is fraught with challenges: getting enough sleep, the terrible twos, and the need for independence as children grow older. For a select few, there is the added challenge of balancing parenting and a disability of some sort.

Parenting without a disability is difficult, and parenting with one presents its own unique challenges. With some adaptations, parenting with a disability is no harder than parenting without one. Remember: it’s comparing apples and oranges; each type is challenging and straightforward in their own ways.

The key is to know what the limits are, having a support system of some sort to help manage those limitations, and keeping everything in a proper perspective.

In the final week of my parenting series, this week will be based more on observations from my own experience coupled with resources found online. If you are a parent with a disability, you may see some similarities in your situation. Hopefully, this will provide some validation to your experience.

Nota bene: This post will be using the universal “you/second person” pronouns throughout, so it may not speak to your experience directly.

Visible versus Invisible

There are two different types of disabilities out there: the ones you can see and the ones you cannot. For people with invisible disabilities, this can lead to a lot of issues, mainly if a person looks “normal” but uses a handicap parking space. A person does not need to be in a wheelchair, despite the universal logo, to be disabled.

Multiple Sclerosis can be both: for those with PPMS and SPMS (and at times, RRMS), it’s a more visible disability. The person can use a cane, walker, or scooter. It can be abnormal speech patterns, cognitive difficulties, or physical weakness. The outside observer can see the disability.

But many with RRMS don’t display outward symptoms of their diagnosis. Yet, the disability can still be there: fatigue, mental fog, or pain. Flare-ups can cause limb weakness or numbness, which several limits mobility for a short time.

When it is hard to see the disability, it is hard for outsiders to understand the extent of the disability. This can lead to feelings of frustration, inadequacy, and self-doubt by the person with the diagnosis.

Parenting with an invisible disability adds an additional layer of complications: sometimes, it’s hard to make playdate plans because you don’t know how you might feel that day. You may not remember simple details about your child’s life, and therefore seem disengaged with the parenting process from the outside. None of these reasons make you less of a parent, it just alters how you parent.

Ultimately, for those with an invisible disability, they can spend part of their day mentally preparing for outside judgment because people might not know or understand the situation. Outside judgment isn’t a daily occurrence, but when it happens, it stings because you are left feeling inadequate.

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Managing Grief with Chronic Illness

“I know that the ones who love us will miss us.”

Keanu Reeves, on what happens after death

Over the past two weeks, I’ve faced an emotion I haven’t dealt with in years. I’ve written about grief before, in the context of coping with a chronic illness diagnosis, but I haven’t reflected on physically losing someone. Relationships come and go, and we mourn losing our connection to a friend, but when death enters the picture, there is a finality to the whole situation we cannot come back. Living with a chronic illness means a strong emotional episode can trigger an exacerbation. That can set us back days, weeks, or even months.

So how do we manage an emotion like grief? 

It’s difficult, because there’s no right way for each person. There are healthy ways to manage grief and unhealthy ways. With a chronic illness, we must find the healthiest way to manage our grief to protect our wellbeing. What shape that takes depend on ourselves.

My Grief

For now, no one is dead in my life. But I have the opportunity to prepare for the death of a loved one. Death can surprise us, or we can have the grace of a timeline. My cat, Lytton, is undergoing some major health concerns. I’ve had Lytton for over ten years, and he’s a significant presence in my life. While he is eleven, I always assumed I would have more time with him.

With each emergency visit and specialist conversation, we are left with the feeling that the end is coming sooner than expected.

Knowing that one of my sources of emotional comfort and napping buddy may soon pass has thrown me headlong into the grieving cycle. I’ve had to reassess priorities and recognize the impact grief will have on my MS if I am not careful.

What follows are some thoughts I’ve had surrounding death and loss. 

Another Thing Chronic Illness Takes…

Chronic illness takes away our ability to grieve in the manner we wish. We can grieve however we want, without regard to our disease, absolutely. But if we have people who depend on us, or we don’t want to deal with a problematic exacerbation, we must keep one eye open to our health.

We must contain and manage our grief.

I am not suggesting “suck it up” or “get over it,” attitudes. No, grieve as long as needed in the necessary form. But be aware of what you are doing and how it might impact your health. Grief is stressful, and if we allow that stress to overwhelm us, we can make ourselves sick.

In the most profound moments of grief, we often do not care about our health. Nothing matters except the loss. Despite how it feels, the intensest moments of pain will pass, and our lives will return to the new normal without the individual. Should we stop taking care of ourselves during our period of grieving, and that helps intensify an exacerbation, the effects of the flare-up may be lifelong. 

To reframe what I mean through an example (this is for illustrative purposes, it hasn’t happened): I allow myself to get so worked up over Lytton’s death that I get an exacerbation. This leads me to lose function of my leg due to numbness, and I must be hospitalized for intervenous steroids. While I have Relapse-Remitting MS, it doesn’t guarantee my leg functionality goes back to 100%. Instead, I leave the hospital with a permanent 80% functionality of that leg. I can no longer achieve the specific goals I had for myself, and I must adapt my life to a new normal. 

I may grieve for Lytton’s death over several years, but I potentially have at least thirty more years to go beyond that. For the few months of intense emotional grief, by not taking preventative measures to balance my health and despair, I’ve impacted the rest of my life. Additionally, Jai loses his mother while I am in the hospital, and I’ve permanently reduced my ability to interact with him. 

I will probably feel guilty for not taking care of myself, needing to be hospitalized, and the impact of the exacerbation on my overall health. All three stemming from a situation where I could have prevented the flare-up through self-care.

Note: with autoimmune/chronic illness, we cannot prevent our flare-ups. They will happen when they happen. We can, however, take steps to minimize them from occurring. It’s remembering to take these steps while grieving to help prevent or lessen the impact of an exacerbation.

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Leading Others Along the Way

On Monday, I discussed how we inadvertently become leaders when we go public with our chronic illness diagnosis. We may not ask, nor want the responsibility, but it inevitably happens. Therefore, we face the questions: should I lead? Do I want to? and what example should I set?

Living with a chronic illness in the United States is becoming a more common occurrence. Because of this uptick, it is becoming more common to know someone affected with a chronic disease. Let’s reflect before your diagnosis for a moment: with your symptoms, did you go online and search for answers before visiting a doctor? If you knew someone with the disease in the results, did you approach them with questions?

So often, when I answer questions about my MS to those experiencing similar symptoms, do I hear how scared they are. There’s a desire for reassurance that they don’t have MS, or that it’s not a death sentence. People are seeking a connection with a person living with an illness that is not in search results. As someone who is out with my diagnosis, my role is to comfort and inform. 

I can, as can you, choose not to take on this role.  

We do not owe anyone answers about our illness. We can choose to refuse to answer, advocate, or inform about the disease. Yet, it is vital to be aware that when we go public with a chronic illness, we will continually field questions until others understand our stance on the matter.

If you choose to take on the role of “local” leader and “expert” on your disease, I wanted to write this post with you in mind. 

What are my Responsibilities?

If you’ve decided to be public with your illness and accepted a leadership role, there’s a set of unspoken responsibilities that come with it. I spoke briefly about this on Monday. I wasn’t aware of all of these responsibilities when I first started blogging about my MS.

As I went along in my journey, I saw good and bad examples of advocacy. As someone out with their disease, it’s imperative you set yourself apart from those who are out for the attention. You will find that there’s always someone out there who is a poor advocate for your illness. They post sensational images on social media, only focus on the negative aspects, and do not take the opportunity to inform others about the disease itself (just that they have it).

They might be considered inspiring by others, too, but look beyond the sensationalism and see the truth: they are attention-seeking and not informing. Be more responsible and educate others about your illness. The ones who are flashy and irresponsible make more work for the rest of us, so it’s important you help the cause rather than hinder it.

I want to share the responsibilities we undertake when we go public with our illness and become a token advocate for others. 

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