written by: Cathy Chester – April 20, 2022
When I was 22 I was in a serious car accident that landed me in the hospital with a concussion and feet that were suddenly numb. I ignored the loss of sensation.
At 27, along with increasing numbness and weakness, I had a few other troubling symptoms. I finally consulted with a neurologist who quickly diagnosed me with multiple sclerosis.
In my thirties, I had more good days than bad.
In my forties and fifties, a few comorbidities reared their ugly heads. The difficult days now outnumbered the rest.
By the time I reached 60, MS had progressed incrementally, making life more complicated and frustrating.
This is my (very) brief MS story through the decades.
Why am I condensing it? To illustrate a point:
At what age did I, and others like me, cross an arbitrary line in the sand that decides when people become “older?”
This is something that’s been on my mind for quite a while and I’d like your honest opinion.
I’ll wait for your response.
I can’t remember when I started to become aware that people of my generation, living with MS, were being excluded in one way or another:
- Being unqualified for MS and non-MS work-related (advocacy) initiatives. It’s my guess that opportunities end once a box is checked “between the ages of 55 – 65” on an application.
- Patients over 50 are sometimes advised they no longer need to be on a disease-modifying therapy once their current medication stops working for them. Sometimes this is warranted (and is being studied further),
- Marketing campaigns promote the face of MS as the picture of youthfulness and beauty on social media, television, and in print ads.
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