Our Story.

This week is National MS Awareness Week!  Get out there, wear some orange (before we all wear..and maybe drink.. some green this weekend), educate a friend, and SPREAD THE WORD.

Again, a cause very near & dear to my heart, and therefore,

very worth writing about.  

My mom & I are beyond lucky to have the bond & the relationship that we have.  When I tell you that she is my best friend, I'm not kidding.  We talk multiple times a day, text multiple times a day, and we (maybe even freakishly) look a lot a like.

baby Mayo & mama bear

When I was in 4th grade, my mom was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis.
What does this mean to a 4th grader?  Not a whole lot, aside from, you know it's bad & you're really scared.. because your mom AND your dad are both in the same room, crying, telling you your life is about to change.

Quick snap shot of my mom while I was in elementary school:
PTA mom.  Jenkins Award Winner.  Girl Scout Leader.  Coach.  Religion Teacher.  Best Friend.  Home Work Helper.  Taxi Driver.  Talent Show Organizer.  Fundraiser.  Vacation Bible School Teacher.  Peanut Butter & Jelly Ministry Coordinator.  Basketball Player. 

The woman, DID. IT. ALL.

So.. what did the next few weeks, months, years have in store for my mom? For me? For my family?
This diagnosis, like just about all others, affects an entire family.

"Could I see Patty, please?" said an unfamiliar voice to my 4th grade teacher.
I stood from my chair, and followed the man that I was pretty sure I had never seen before, to an office, that I had never been in before.

"Hi Patty, my name is Mr. Ortiz.  I was sent to talk to you."
even my 4th grade mind knew.. "great, a shrink."
And that was the first time I ever really spoke to anyone about how I felt about my mom's diagnosis.

Beyond the first few weeks, life continued as "normal."  We knew that my mom had some vision problems, that were thankfully clearing up, but the meaning of Multiple Sclerosis was still very grey for me.

The next few years held multiple medications, "clinical trials," and ups & downs for my mom, and my family. 

The summer before I was in 7th grade, my family moved.  Once we got settled, my mom felt she was healthy enough to work.  She got a job at my middle school, while I was in middle school.  It was interesting, to say the least.  But, I really did love having my mom at school.  I thought she was pretty cool, and my 7th grade self was proud of her for being able to work.

Sooner than later, the healthy days were fewer & far between, and the "symptom" days became part of our day-to-day norm.  My mom left her job at the middle school.

Once I was in high school, it seemed we had things managed a bit better.  The healthy days were outnumbering the bed-ridden days, and things were looking up.  My mom went back to work; this time, at my uncle's office.

It was really great for my mom to have a job, let alone one that was fairly close, and one where the administration was very understanding of what she was living with.

My phone rang one cold, winter day.

"Pat, I need you to come get me."

My mom was on the other side of the phone.  She drove herself to work.  She had a rough few days, figured it would wear off, and got herself together to go to work.  Because that's what she did (and still does).

After that day, the days my mom drove on her own, were few & far between.  The days that she walked without some kind of assistive device (cane, walker, scooter) were few & far between.

Fast forward to my senior year of high school/freshman year of college.

My mom spent days, weeks on & off in the hospital.  I drove to school, work, practice, then the hospital.

I left for college.  My mom was STILL sick.  I had the most guilt, the most sorrow, the most depression, I have ever felt in my entire life. 

My high school days were full of activities, studying, and care-giving.  For my mom, for my sisters, for my family.  Not even necessarily because I HAD to, but because I wanted to.  I made it my responsibility to bear any burden that could lighten those of my parents.

[perspective: My mom and dad sat in the tiny tented area at my graduation, normally reserved for the elderly.  They had to leave the ceremony after we threw our caps because my mom couldn't endure the heat any longer. We also brought a scooter to my college orientation.  So if you saw some lady buzzing around on an old school hover-round, that was my mom. Yes, she was buzzing.] 

When I got to college and realized I left those responsibilities with my sisters, I was crushed.  I was stressed almost over minute of every day over what I had left at home for them to deal with.  I couldn't handle it.  I began having serious migraines, to the point I had to go to the hospital.  I saw a therapist once a week throughout the majority of my freshman year, trying to figure out how to deal with the stress and the guilt. 

after my SECOND MS challenge walk with my sister, my mom & my best friend

Eventually, it was all managed, and it seemed as though it was under control around the same time my mother's health was managed.

For the last 3 years (roughly) my mother has been on an absolute miracle drug, and the HEALTHY days have IMMENSELY outweighed the less healthy.

I am thankful for the support my mom has had.  I am thankful for the support that I have had, that my family has had.  I am thankful for the medicine, for the doctors, for the nurses.  Although not all of these people are always perfect, they are those who have gotten us to where we are today.  My friends, our friends, have been an amazing resource.  Since my mom's diagnosis not every day has been easy, but we have enjoyed some part of every day.

How does she do it?  I ask myself this all of the time.  I may never know.  I can tell you, she tries to make sure that she smiles every day.  It's not always number one on her priority list, but she somehow forces one out.

My mom is my hero.

my permanent awareness ribbon bracelet

I could add 91450923745 more details, tell 28351560 stories, and one day, I will.
If you made it to the end of this, thank you for taking the time to read it.  It is just a skeleton of our story, but it is our story.

I love you mom.

xx. Mayonnaise

National Multiple Sclerosis Society