How weathering hurricanes is like living with multiple sclerosis
However much I prepare, there's always the chance of an unexpected impact
As a native Floridian, I’ve been through my fair share of hurricanes. Because they’re so familiar, I’m probably a bit too indifferent to them. But in many ways, hurricanes parallel my life with relapsing-remitting multiple sclerosis (RRMS); each involves preparation, weathering of the storm, and adjusting to the aftermath.
When a hurricane is headed toward me, I gather items outside that could become projectiles in the wind, either weighting them down or bringing them inside. I may take inventory of sandbags and line those up to help prevent flooding. Inside the house, I’ll pull out flashlights, restock batteries, and charge laptops and cellphones in case we lose power.
I’ll also add to our inventory of nonperishable foods, which we keep stocked year-round. I’ll fill water bottles and place them in the freezer in case we lose running water. Depending on predictions of the storm’s severity, I may even fill a bathtub. I’ll also ensure plenty of food for my animals and either let them cuddle up with me as we wait or, if a last-minute evacuation is mandated, place them in their carriers.
I do all of these preparations while knowing that if I lose power, I’ll also lose air conditioning and face dense humidity. That’s an element of storms that may require extra preparations for those of us with multiple sclerosis (MS); one of my priorities is staying cool because of my heat intolerance.
As the storm approaches, any day-to-day busyness comes to a screeching halt. It’s as if time stands still. The storm is all anyone can focus on; life beyond that doesn’t seem to matter.
As we’re hunkering down to weather the storm, the winds howl and fill the silence, followed by claps of thunder and flashes of lightning, all while the rain pours. If the hurricane is like the many that have come before, this phase will last only a couple of days at most. I’ll find out then if I overdid it on my preparations.
That’s my normal practice, but this hurricane season wasn’t like others. Hurricanes Helene and Milton served as a stark reminder that things happen in life that are far beyond our planning or control.
A part of me is still struggling to process the aftermath of these hurricanes. September and October blurred together. Even weeks past our extended power outages, I still see blue tarps, debris, and cut-up trees. I know I’m among the lucky ones, and my heart breaks for those who have experienced unimaginable misfortune. Despite my gratitude for facing only minor damage, I still feel the negative effects to my emotional health and well-being.
The storm of my MS
The crashing hurricane fatigue is similar to MS fatigue. Just as these storms seem to come out of nowhere at an unexpected pace, size, strength, trajectory, and impact, it’s also hard to predict what comes next with RRMS.
I brace for the next relapse through day-to-day preparations of medications, diet, and exercise. Similar to boarding up windows in anticipation of a storm, sometimes I’ve been so focused on managing my disease that I’ve shut myself off from the rest of the world, prioritizing surviving over truly living.
I track my disease trajectory through neurologist appointments, functionality tests, and MRIs. Even then, I still don’t know when the next damage will occur or the severity of its impact. During some periods, it seems like the rain never stops and the sun remains hidden.
Through my own storm-tossed life, I’ve learned to enjoy myself during the calm between storms and focus on what anchors me through troubled waters. For me, that’s keeping my connections with community, loved ones, and faith. These are constant reminders that I’ll never weather a storm alone.
My strongest anchor, however, is hope, which can endure the worst of conditions.
Note: Multiple Sclerosis News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Multiple Sclerosis News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to multiple sclerosis.
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Comments
Cary Kuhar
What a well-written and thoughtful comparison of the storms in your life! I’ve had MS since 2016 when I was 63, so it’s relatively new to me. I don’t seem to have relapses so I may have primary progressive MS. But I do deal with the fatigue, heat intolerance, and muscle spasms pretty much every day. My new normal.
Maureen McGuinness-Mcgrath
Great article !!
Diagnosed RRMS 2007. Moved from New England to Florida in 2017. The last storm really did a number on me !! No physical or structural damage, but physically and emotionally drained. This article really hit the nail on the head !! I’m wondering if the atmosphere has more of an effect on us than we realize. Does anyone know anything about barometric pressure ?? I’m trying to understand this since I do not think this was the last storm ,unfortunately.