Ten years ago today, Courtney and I were sitting in a doctor’s office on pins and needles, despite already knowing what the doctor would say: “You are being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.” This moment was simply bringing into spoken existence what the MRIs — including one Courtney herself had ordered — and various tests had already revealed. It was a moment of confirmation, but that did not lessen the weight of hearing those words out loud.
Looking back, I am deeply grateful for that day and that I remain healthy and stable — “unremarkable” in medical terms. That word, once dull, has become one of my favorites. In a world where approximately 50% of people with MS require mobility assistance by the ten-year mark, I consider myself incredibly fortunate. For those of us with relapsing-remitting MS (RRMS), that percentage is lower, and I stand here today needing nothing. No cane, no wheelchair — just my two legs, my grit, and a heart full of gratitude.
In the past decade, advancements in disease-modifying therapies (DMTs) have actually been remarkable. These therapies, which were limited when I was first diagnosed, have expanded significantly, offering people like me a fighting chance to keep the disease at bay with hope “to live life fully.”
But the reality is that now is the time to live life fully. If I may be bold enough, I would like to share a few lessons learned along the way of running into, through, and with this obstacle known as MS.
Lessons from the Path:
- (Almost) Nothing is inherently good or bad: Life is rarely black and white. Every event, including this diagnosis, contains a mix of positive and negative elements, and it is our responsibility to perceive both sides. Stoicism has taught me that obstacles are not to be feared or resented; they are what shape our journey. As Ryan Holiday eloquently writes in The Obstacle Is the Way, “What stands in the way becomes the way.” MS has been both the obstacle and the path. It has taught me to find balance, accept what is, and move forward with intention and purpose.
- Control is an illusion: Much of life, including this disease, is beyond my control. I cannot change the fact that I have MS, but I can control how I respond to it. These words are simple in any context, but acting upon them can be difficult. Over the years, I have seen too many people with MS stop their treatments, perhaps in an attempt to regain a sense of control over something uncontrollable. There is no shame in this path. We need to treat the person, not just the disease. (I, however, remain committed to my DMTs because I believe in responding with strength, even when the outcome is uncertain.)
- Blessings in disguise: MS has connected me with a community of extraordinary individuals, whose inner strength inspires me daily. These relationships have blessed me — people I might never have met if not for this shared challenge. Over time, I have also mentored and coached newly diagnosed individuals through this journey, including too many younger people. Their resilience strengthens mine, reminding me that while MS can be a difficult road, it also brings moments of profound connection and humanity.
- Free time is not free: Time is the most precious and non-replenishable resource we have. Since my diagnosis, and particularly over the past three years, this truth has become even more apparent as my children have become adults and we have become empty nesters. Time has a cost, and its value is nearly immeasurable — a lesson children often grasp instinctively as they spell “love” as “T-I-M-E.” I have become more determined to ensure my priorities — health, family, friends, and community—remain in proper order. This is aligned with the clarity I have found, knowing that my tombstone will simply read, “Husband. Father. Friend.”
- The power of help: Historically, I struggled to ask for help. It was never out of pride but rather because I feared others might feel my friendship was based on what they could do for me. I have since learned that asking for help is a superpower. Thankfully, I realized this before I ever entered a phase where even the simplest tasks might require the assistance of others.
I will conclude with this simple phrase to everyone in my life whether big or small, especially my beautiful, strong wife – Thank you. I love you.