When I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, my name was on the lips of everyone associated with my family, my job, my friends. Tragic news always makes headlines. Sympathy runs rampant and solicitation becomes an expected reaction. As soon as the novelty of knowing someone with MS wears thin, infirmities are often forgotten. I don't really mind. In fact, if my MS is not part of the conversation, I am relieved to not feel the need to make excuses. I do not rely upon my disease and am even kind of embarrassed (for me as well as for the interrogator) when I have to explain my cane, my limp, my slurred speech, or my lack of energy. It gets tiresome; but, I remind myself daily to be grateful for being blessed with tehh ability to continue working and to function in a relatively "normal" manner. The first advice I was given upon diagnosis was to join a support group. I did. I was mortified. I spent many, many hours planning the end of my life rather than being