Identity

I started playing the piano at age 5. In third grade the music teacher had me play a Bach Two-Part Invention and explained to the class that they were seeing something unusual. I was surprised by her words. Sure, I didn't know anyone else my age who could play what I could play, but just figured I didn't know what my classmates did outside the classroom.

By high school, music was what made me special, my identity. Then, in my 20s, I moved into an environment where my musical ability was more of a relational liability than an asset. Rather than force the issue, I reluctantly moved on to other interests. Music was no longer a part of who I was. I was an engineer for a few years, then a full-time mother, and later a librarian.

In 2004 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. After the initial shock of hearing the "C" word wore off, I decided I would not join the ranks of people for whom "cancer survivor" is part of their identity. I am not a "cancer survivor" any more than I am a "chicken pox survivor". Cancer is simply one part of my medical history. I had a lumpectomy and five weeks of radiation treatment but treated it as just a small bump in my life.

Now it is 2011. In February, I heard the "C" word again. This time my left kidney was the site of cancer. No relationship to the first cancer. Again, surgery took care of the problem, this time without further treatment, and I declined to allow cancer to define me.

On a Friday evening in mid-June, I noticed I was unsteady on my feet. The next day I developed double vision. That led to a new diagnosis tracing back to a case of optic neuritis I had in 1996. The optic neuritis was a sclerosis. The latest MRIs show that I now have more than one sclerosis. In fact, I have multiple sclerosis. MS.

Now it is time to consider my identity once again. There will be no surgery to put MS behind me. It is a lifetime companion. At the moment, I have no more symptoms than before the problems that cropped up for a few days in June and were resolved with the help of steroids. Shall I become an active participant in the MS community or shall I ignore this unwelcome companion as much as possible? What place do I want to give it in my life during this time when it's still invisible to others?

It has been a while since I have grappled with "who am I?" questions. It will be interesting to see how much of my focus MS manages to grab as it becomes a constant companion. I guess if it starts to take over my life I'll at least have a focus for my blog after all this time.