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  • Writer's picturejodi

3 Years to the Day

Updated: Apr 10, 2022

This pic was taken almost 3 years to the exact day. This morning I woke up with vibes of this day heavy on my heart & mind. When I took the pic, I was sitting in a cafe inside of a hospital. I’ll share my insta post from that day with you below…

‘This is my view for the next few hours. It’s not the first time. But for the first time, I’m not feeling strong. It’s so damn hard to be the strong one all of the time… The Peacekeeper, The Rock & The Button. (Moms are like buttons, they hold things together) Walking down the hall to the coffee shop, I realize that I have forgotten my book & my earbuds at home. No meditation nor book to escape in. I could feel a lump in my throat… I could barely order my coffee without coming to tears. Not because of my forgotten items but from the sadness and fear that I felt… still feel. And as I sat on my chair my eyes started to leak. At first just a slight intermittent drip of an annoying tap; one eye, then the other. But then it turned into silent streams down my cheeks that I could not control, even if I wanted to. And then I realized… THIS is why I forgot my book & my earbuds, so I could be HERE in this moment, feeling THESE feels. Then I thought… What could be a better way to release, cleanse & grow, then to write it all down here.’

My husbands diagnosis of MS was concrete prior to this day.

His multiple MRI’s evidence of proof.

As are his symptoms.

I’ll never forget the surreal feeling in the darkened room while looking through his multiple MRI scans with the Neuro-Ophthalmologist and then the Neurologist. The day this photo was taken, we were at an appointment for various other tests, gathering more evidence to further prove what all of us already know.

The hardest part, is not the black and white images on a screen or the other diagnostic test results, it’s the little things that I see on a regular basis. Little pieces of him fading away. It’s the twenty years of nursing knowledge that fills my brain & never shuts off. It controls my logic & imposes the power to scare the fu*k out of me about our future.

But I don’t live in those feelings, I can’t, so I let them ebb & flow.

And sure, someone might read this & think, “well it could be worse” and you’d be right, it could be. But it doesn’t make our trauma, our pain & our fear any less then what it is.



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