Multiple sclerosis has become part of the soundtrack of my life
How one set of lyrics appears to be awash in references to my disease

I don’t know if anyone else’s life works this way, but my life has a soundtrack. It varies depending on my mood and what’s going on at the moment, but at any given time there’s music in my background. These days it’s usually playing on one of the personal assistant devices in the house, but it’s not limited to that. It can also come through the TV, car, headphones, or me, when I’m mindlessly humming a tune that I can’t get out of my head.
I listen to quite a bit of contemporary music, but I haven’t forgotten the songs of my youth. One of those is “No One Is to Blame,” by Howard Jones. Recently I heard not the original, but a cover by Mindy Smith. Most of the time, I prefer original songs to their covers, but in this case I actually prefer the latter.
Either way, I’ve rediscovered the song and newly appreciate it because I hear references to my multiple sclerosis (MS) in its lyrics. Just like most any other song, “No One Is to Blame” has nothing at all to do with MS. The connections are in my mind, and maybe in mine alone, but after I address a few of the lyrics, they might be in yours as well.
My personal take on a pop song exegesis
The song begins with the line, “You can look at the menu, but you just can’t eat.” I feel this sensation every time I’m dining out because I don’t always choose what I really want from the menu. If I’m with my wife, I don’t mind if she cuts my food for me, but if I’m eating with other people, I tend to pick something that doesn’t require cutting. Since my dexterity is not what it used to be, I also tend to choose items that won’t make a big mess. My MS can sometimes make a menu look like a list of things I shouldn’t choose.
The next line of the song says, “You can feel the cushions, but you can’t have a seat.” I use a wheelchair as my primary means of locomotion, and my disability has gotten to the point where I cannot transfer seats without help. I still occasionally transfer to my old recliner, but if I’m not in the comfort of my own home, I tend to stay in my chair. I’m sure that the furniture at a friend’s house or in a public setting is comfortable. It’s just normally not worth the effort I’d need to find out.
The next line is, “You can dip your foot in the pool, but you can’t have a swim.” I think that’s because the battery for the handicap lift at hotels never seems to be charged. In other cases, it’s because there’s no one around who knows how to operate it. That isn’t always the case, of course. I’ve had staff at some resorts practically drag me to the lift and into the pool. As it is for people with any level of disability, water is my friend. I’d like to be able to enjoy it more often.
Another part of the song says, “You can build a mansion, but you just can’t live in it.” Our family home is not a mansion by any means, but it has an upstairs that I haven’t seen in some time. I could have a stair lift installed, but it seems like an unnecessary addition because I don’t intend to live here forever. And if I got to the top, I’d need another wheelchair there, which means another transfer — and I’ve already covered that problem. It’s been my decision to avoid the second story, but it’s not a choice I wanted to make.
The last line that caught my eye, or rather my ear, is the one that says, “Doctor says you’re cured, but you still feel the pain.” To be fair, no one has ever told me I was cured, but the word “stable” gets thrown around occasionally. I know the clinical definition, but I still resent it. I find myself wanting to ask, “What does that mean? I drove myself to our first appointments and walked in under my own power. Compared with my condition now, it doesn’t seem very stable to me.”
I didn’t mean to turn this week’s column into a sad rant, to give you a new earworm, or to make you hear MS in every song. If any of those happen, then I’m genuinely sorry. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go listen again to “No One Is to Blame” because it didn’t hurt me enough the first time.
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.
Lisa Kandel
Thank you for taking me back to my childhood. I haven't heard that song in a long time.
I have an MRI scheduled tomorrow so I'm sure I will hear my own soundtrack. Keep fighting the good fight.
Have a blessed day!
Benjamin Hofmeister
Hi Lisa! I just had another MRI yesterday and I think that was number 16 or 17. Too many more and I'm going to start sticking to the refrigerator.
Anthony Hoysted
Hi Ben - Your column didn't read like a sad rant at all, rather an insightful exploration of the way songs can connect with people's life experiences in ways that song writer cannot know. Behind the specifics there is a universality of experience that we all share.
As for 'stable', I suspect doctors use it to mean that they can detect no evidence of new disease activity on scans. It is often observed, however, that disability progression often occurs without obvious signs on scans, and researchers are now investigating this phenomenon (eg 'smoldering MS').
Benjamin Hofmeister
Thanks Anthony! No, I suppose it wasn't really a sad rant, but sometimes I worry that I might be ranting. My neurologist and I have had discussions in the past about what stable really means and he's always said exactly what you did. There is no progression of the disease process, but with no way to remyelinate damaged areas, the disability continues to progress.
Thank you for reading and taking the time to comment.
Kerri Dorsey
Wow. A green beret wrote that.!! I love it. I too enjoyed the career in the United States, Air Force and it got cut short due to this horrible disease we have.
Has anybody heard this song?
“ hot water test”
By our Alex Alexakis ?
He is a lead singer of Everclear. It is all about multiple sclerosis. I encourage anybody who likes music to listen to this song especially if you have MS. It really hits Home and it basically takes us through his diagnosis in this song. He’s got a pretty good attitude about it I met him since this song was made and yeah, just another person with MS but I like that song.
Benjamin Hofmeister
I've never heard that song. Thank you so much for bringing it to my attention! I hear MS in several songs and I've always thought that the complex feelings and emotions that people with this disease have, could be made into a song. I'm so happy to know that someone has while sorry that they ever felt the need to.
Sarah
Same thing with me. Her Diamonds by Rob Thomas and Fine Again by Seether!
Benjamin Hofmeister
Thanks Sarah! If I'm really feeling blue, I like to listen to the remake of Ghost in This House by Allison Krauss. That one will bring a tear to your eyes if you're not careful.
Sue Morrison
Thanks for writing Ben and for your honesty. I’m waiting for the spinal tap appointment to confirm my diagnosis.
I'm 82 years old and they are saying “late onset” MS. My first symptoms were in early November ‘24. During my first ever neurology appointment in February, I was surprised to hear her say, “most likely MS”. My symptoms diminished over the next few weeks and I thought, they must be wrong. Now just a month since the word was applied to me and those symptoms, i am into (what is a new word for me), “a flare” and am waiting to go have the spinal tap to confirm this diagnosis.
Being this age brings many challenges but this was never one I thought of. I’m still living alone, driving, and all other tests have come back normal for 82, including cognitively. Yet here I am, and my symptoms are so strange to me: head sort of swimming, solid, achy and heavy, and the feeling like ants crawling under the skin on one side of my face and head, burning heat along the outside of my face, head, arm and leg. Loosing my words sometimes….how to even describe it seems so strange. My vision in my right eye… on and on. So I’ll stop now, because it makes no sence, but Im beginning to accept this is probably real and if I’m going to end life well, I better find others who are doing so and your my first.
Thank you for your column. I don’t feel so alone now and I hope that makes your day, to know you gave me some feeling of connection. If it turns out it’s not MS, “(i can’t imagine what it could be) and no one is suggesting on alternative to it.
So I’m grateful for your writing and sorry you’re so young having this to live with, but I’m sure your family is blessed to have you with them. You have given me more understanding and compassion for the struggles and the courage it takes to live well with this condition, I hope I can follow your example. Thank you for sharing your feelings and frustrations, I don’t feel so alone as I was just an hour ago.
All my best wishes and prayers for you and your family, blessing for your honestty.
Sue
Benjamin Hofmeister
Thank you for all that Sue! You don't have to worry about making sense. All of us get it because we've got it. Thankfully I wasn't diagnosed via spinal tap, but I did have to have one as part of the assessment before getting my baclofen pump. It wasn't horrible, but sure won't make my top 10 list of things I like to do.
Pat Martin
Wow, does this column speak to me! I was diagnosed with RRMS in 1990 after 2 years or so of symptoms. It became SPMS about 5 years ago. I have gone from working, to retired. from walking w/o assistance to using a cane inside and a walker outside. And I was denied disability 3x. I tell everyone that most people get sports cars to deal with their mid-life crises. I got a debilitating disease. It doesn't help that I've never married. I have to keep a sense of humor, especially when I'm lying on the bathroom floor naked, waiting for the paramedics to come in and pick me up. And now I have an earworm for the rest of the day! Thanks, Ben. LOL