The Most Important Tool in the Battle against M.S.

It was a sunny day in the summer of 1998.  It was the day I learned about the power and the importance of attitude when taking on life’s biggest challenges.

I was walking along the track surrounding a local high school football stadium.  I was one of the hundreds of survivors participating in that year’s Relay for Life.  By my side was my husband’s Aunt Mary – MY Aunt Mary – and we held hands and talked as we walked.

Like one of those bad movies that start in the middle, so have I, too, here.  Let me back up.  When I first started dating my now husband, I desperately wanted to make a good impression on his parents.  In 1996, when his mom asked me to “actively” volunteer for the American Cancer Society’s Relay for Life event, I jumped at the chance to bond a little with my future mother-in-law and impress her at the same time.  Several people in my life had suffered from or died from cancer and it was a good cause.  When year two of my new volunteering experience rolled around, I was more eager than ever.  I served on committees, helped put out thousands of luminaries for the evening vigil, walked – and walked – and walked around that darn track. 

Little did I know at that point, that by the next year’s Relay, I would walk not only as a volunteer, but also as a cancer survivor.  It’s amazing how life changes in a heartbeat.  Within a month of that Relay event, I was diagnosed with cancer and my life changed dramatically.

By the time Relay of 1998 rolled around, I had gone through two surgeries/treatments to remove the cancer from my body.  I was exactly 2 months cancer-free when I hit the track for that year.  I was angry.  I was weepy. I was scared. I was a little embarrassed to be diseased.  I was useless and self-absorbed.  The music played, the singers sang, and family members of the survivors lined the track and its bleachers, clapping and cheering for those who opened the ceremonies with the annual survivor walk.  Aunt Mary walked proudly with her head held high, swinging my hand along with hers.  I sniffled.  I pouted. My head hung low. Then she squeezed my hand and pulled me to the side of the track.

Remember, this was the woman who at our first meeting asked me, “Who the hell are you?”  I was still rather new to the family but I learned early on that no one really messed with Aunt Mary.  She was shorter than me (barely) but at that moment, when she spoke, she towered over me as if she was 10-feet-tall.  “What are you crying for? This is a celebration! You are a survivor!”  I told her I was crying because after the second battle with the Big C, it had sunk in – I had cancer!  I told her all of the things I felt I had lost in my life because of the health crisis.  I sounded pathetic.  Then she started talking to me about the power and importance of attitude.  (If there was one woman on the planet who had attitude, it was Aunt Mary.  She had survived breast cancer for years at that point).

Aunt Mary told me that I get to choose my attitude.  She said that I could choose to cry because I wasn’t going to be a “real” mom anytime in my life; or I could choose to love my new and wonderful step-kids, all of whom were there cheering me on with their dad that day.  She told me I could choose to wallow in self-pity and fear, worrying every day that the cancer could come back, or worse, spread throughout my body; or I could choose to live my life – every moment of it — to its fullest. The choice would always be mine. Then she gave me an ultimatum and told me I was allowed to cry until I reached the end of the track.  When that moment came, she told me to wrap my arms around my new husband’s neck, to love up those beautiful step-kids, and to hold my head up high and celebrate my survivorship.  She told me that the only way I would truly beat cancer for the long-term would be through my attitude.  And that attitude – good or bad – was my choice and only my choice. 

We started to walk the track again – slowly – so I could get in a good, long cry before we reached the end.  And, by the end, I met Aunt Mary’s challenge.  I chose to fight and I chose to be positive along the way.  I believed her, that attitude can help beat any disease.  Aunt Mary passed on several years later, ironically from another form of cancer, but her spirit, her attitude, and her words live with me every, single day.  I thank God she entered my life.  She has taught me the most important tool in battling M.S. each and every day – a positive, strong, and healthy attitude.  I also truly believe that my positive attitude is why, now 10 years later, I remain cancer-free.

I sometimes think that readers here think I play Little Mary Sunshine; that I don’t necessarily live in reality, or even that my positive attitude – mixed in with a good dose of the humorous – isn’t authentic.  I can assure everyone that while I do have my moments of sadness and grief and still to this day a bit of anger, that I push myself (sometimes with the help of others) to bounce back because I know that how I deal with this disease is my choice. 

As we continue to learn about Multiple Sclerosis here in the Sunshine, I hope everyone can be blessed with finding their own attitude – no matter how that attitude develops.  A choice is such an easy thing to make.

Many people ask me how I stay so upbeat and so positive.  I’d like to be able to say that I have an unmistakable gift of strength, that I’m fearless, or that I am just blessed with a naturally positive attitude.  But, it’s nothing that remarkable.  Frankly, it’s because I know that someday I will see Aunt Mary again and when I do, if I haven’t lived a life filled with the positive, with strength, and surrounded by happiness, she’ll kick my ass.  It’s that simple.