Contents (43)
- Dedication
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- 2 weeks later
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Six weeks later
- Chapter 36
- One more thing before you go…
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Copyright
‘No. You do not have cancer, Alexandra—’
‘Well, thank the shining stars for that.’ I let out a premature sigh of relief.
‘What you do have…’ Dr Harlow continues. ‘…is an autoimmune condition called multiple sclerosis. Or MS, as you may know it.’
Chapter 5
‘Sorry… what?’ Suddenly, I feel like I’m trapped in a bad dream. ‘I’m in hospital for a concussion. I just had a stupid fall.’
‘I realise this is a lot to take in,’ says Dr Harlow. ‘In particular, as you had no awareness of your condition. It is generally not diagnosed in this way.’
‘Hang on.’ I stare at her in disbelief. ‘I’m still stuck at… what?’
‘Would you like me to explain some more about what MS is, Alexandra?’
‘No. I want you to make sense. And I want you to call me Alex. Is that really so hard?’
‘Of course. My apologies.’ Dr Harlow seems totally unperturbed by my reaction.
‘This can’t be right.’ I shake my head. ‘I know what MS is and I don’t have it. I’m healthy – well, not right now obviously because I have a cold and a concussion. But normally, I’m busy and active and successful. I have a really good career. I’m planning my wedding. I’m on top of everything. How could I do all that if I have MS?’
‘As I said, I realise this is a lot to take in.’
Dr Harlow removes her glasses and sits down on one of the chairs beside me. Her shadow – aka the medical student – immediately follows suit.
‘It’s not a lot to take in.’ I exhale loudly in frustration. ‘You’ve just got it wrong.’
‘I wish we did, believe me. Medical professionals always want to be wrong when it comes to the diagnosis of life-limiting illness. But I am confident of this diagnosis. It is my responsibility to communicate this to you, as well as provide you with the treatment and support you need.’
‘MS is a death sentence. If you’re right, my life is basically over. I can’t afford for you to be right.’
‘That is not actually correct. Your life expectancy is not directly reduced by MS, although secondary complications can be a problem – particularly when the disease is well progressed. It is primarily your quality of life that will be impacted. There is no known cure for MS, but there are some effective treatments available to you. It appears to be in its early stages, and though it is hard to be sure at this point, early indications suggest it to be the relapsing-remitting type.’
‘Right.’ I stare at the blanket covering my legs, unable to deal with any more of this.
‘We will do some further tests to check there is no damage to your spinal cord,’ Dr Harlow continues, oblivious to my need to terminate this conversation right now. ‘And we can only rule out the progressive type once we have monitored your disease pattern for some time—’
‘OK, well thanks.’ I cut her off. ‘I think I’d like to rest now. I’m very tired.’