“There are people out there who just ‘get it’”

My MS diagnosis

It was June 2010 and the country was gripped with World Cup fever when I woke up with a dead leg. At first, I told myself that the uncomfortable numbness behind my right thigh was because I’d overdone it at the gym. I’d also been studying hard for my second-year university exams, so perhaps I’d been sitting for too long.

But as time passed and the numbness grew into a creeping paralysis that left me paralysed from the waist down, I realised I was in deep trouble. I managed to get an emergency appointment with my GP.

I’ll never forget the look on her face as she carried out a range of neurological function tests. She’d known me since I was a young child, and she had tears in her eyes when she told me that she was calling an ambulance to blue light me to the Southern General Hospital (now the Queen Elizabeth University Hospital) for further tests.

After spending two weeks in Ward 67 (the acute neurology ward) and undergoing a dizzying array of MRI scans, lumbar punctures, and high-dose steroid infusions, I was informed that I had multiple sclerosis.

My post-diagnosis life

After I was discharged from hospital, I felt scared and overwhelmed. I had so many questions that the internet alone couldn't answer. As I tried to come to terms with such a life-changing diagnosis, I grieved for my old life. I had to accept that I could no longer play football, and I was now navigating university using both a wheelchair and crutches. I was also forced to give up three part-time jobs that I loved and relied on to pay my bills.

The worst part for me, though, was the constant — and sometimes intrusive — questions. People in the street, taxi drivers, and university peers who had never even spoken to me before my diagnosis would ask me about my MS. I felt like an artefact in a museum, being prodded and inspected. For several years, I dealt with my diagnosis by retreating from life. I did as much university work as I could from the relative safety and comfort of my home.

When I reached my fourth year of university, I remember dreading my graduation ball. I was initially against going, but several of my friends convinced me to come. And lucky they did – when I went to buy my ticket, I met my now wife for the first time. She was one of the organisers of the graduation ball.

We bonded instantly. She showed me the importance of opening up and talking things through with people who love and support you. I can honestly say that, over the years, it has been her encouragement and guidance that’s inspired me to help others struggling with both MS and other chronic illnesses or hardships in their lives.

My role as a Wellbeing Facilitator for the MS Society

In February of this year, I applied to become a Volunteer Wellbeing Facilitator with the MS Society Scotland and was thrilled when I was offered the position. As it’s coming up for the fifteenth anniversary of my diagnosis, I felt compelled to share my own story with other people living with MS. Both online and in-person peer support groups are integral to providing emotional support to those with MS and their caregivers and are an increasingly valuable resource for the MS community.

My first event as a Wellbeing Facilitator was at the Bellshill Cultural Centre in March. Over two sessions, six other participants and I completed the Loss and Change course, which examined issues such as our self-care plans, strategies for dealing with loss and understanding how our brains react to loss and change.

After some reflection, I shared with the group how I’d lost friends due to my MS, been discriminated against in public and the workplace, and how it took me some time to implement self-care practices for my mental and physical health.

As I sat there and bonded with others in the group, I realised how far I have come in my journey with MS and reflected on the knowledge and resilience I have built over the years.

The event was a safe space for me to share my tips for symptom management and to learn about the range of other disease modifying therapies (DMTs) available. It allowed me to get teary at some of the harder symptoms I encounter, such as my daily battle with choking sensations, as well as laugh at some of the more bizarre symptoms MS has thrown up over the years.

Most importantly, though, it enabled me to make new friends and breathe a sigh of relief that there are people out there who just ‘get it’.

Find out about volunteering with us