Not My Illness, but Ours

“Mom, I’m finding your hair everywhere!” my teenage daughter, Serenity, told me, as if I was purposely losing it all over our home. I had joked previously that I was shedding like our cats, not realizing how much my hair loss bothered my children.

When my neurologist gave me three medications to choose from to combat my multiple sclerosis, I chose the one with the least ominous side effects, even though one was hair loss. At least that side effect was far less worrisome to me than the organ damage that could occur with one of the other meds, but to my daughter, it was a daily physical reminder of my otherwise unseen illness.

God used Serenity’s distress about my hair to make me more mindful of the ways in which my illness impacts all members of our household. To make me remember that battling this disease with no cure is a group effort. My sickness is not mine alone, but something experienced, in one way or another, to one degree or another, by each member of my family.