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The Barenaked realities behind my MS optimism

By Dan Digmann

“So get up, get up
Tell the bookie put a bet on ‘not a damn thing will go wrong’”
Odds Are, Barenaked Ladies

Ever since I footed the first copay of my pricey disease-modifying therapy, I conceded that multiple sclerosis had turned me into a betting man. 

I unflinchingly laid down a portion of the monthly costs (that ran in the tens of thousands of dollars before insurance kicked in) for a medication that may or may not slow the progression and severity of my disease. No guarantees, but I was all in on investing in this chance to potentially keep my MS under control. 

It’s as though I said (and still am saying), “I bet this expensive medication that has considerably less than a 100 percent efficacy rate surely is going to work for me.”

Now, about 25 years later, I’m still at the DMT table rolling the dice with every treatment, hoping that my luck won’t run out in staying ahead of or keeping pace with this progressive disease. 

Leave it to a song I recently discovered by the Canadian rock band Barenaked Ladies to make me realize I have actually spent the past two decades hedging my bets on way more than every-other-day injections and twice-a-year infusions.

The messages behind their 2013 single, Odds Are, have renewed my sense of responsibly, ignoring the negatives, and living more fully despite MS. 

Seriously.

We know MS affects everyone differently, and what works for one person doesn't always work for another. I hope sharing how a few lines from this song help me — I have put them on sticky notes to inspire me every day — will give you some perspectives to consider on going all in and betting on yourself in the face of this disease. 

“Sure things go wrong, but I'll take my chances / Odds are long, so why not play?”

This line is effective because it acknowledges MS is a cruel and unpredictable disease capable of having a devastating effect on our lives. This includes everything from broken relationships to losing bladder control, the ability to walk, and cognitive abilities. Do all the potential effects of MS happen to each of the 2.5 million people worldwide who are diagnosed

No. 

This is where living with MS comes back to gambling.

We have no choice in how MS will affect our lives, but we do have the ability to stay in the game and play the cards we are dealt. Sure, this can involve some bluffing and making it look easier than it really is, but it's important to continue showing up and playing each day as though the odds will work in our favor.

“No it's never gonna let up so you might as well sing along”

I get it. This line may sound hopeless and depressing. However, to me, it conveys the reality that MS is something I will have to live with until a cure is found or the damage it already has caused in my body is fixed.

See what I said there? “… live with ...” Yes, I was diagnosed with having MS in 2000, but the key is to focus on the life I'm living, not the disease I have. MS isn't something I can ignore. 

I am a professional writer, so I have to type every day. However, MS has made my hands and fingers more and more numb over the years, so I don't do much typing anymore. Instead, I use voice-recognition software to speak my words into my messaging and articles (including this essay you’re reading). 

Do I curse the disease every time I realize I no longer can type as well as I once did? No. I simply smile because I'm grateful there are tools available to help me thrive in the face of MS.

“The odds are that we will probably be alright”

Life with MS is far from perfect. To a certain point, it's not even close to where I thought I would be 30 years ago. 

But at the core, I am exactly where I hoped to be: living my best life possible, staying strong in the face of challenges, adapting to unforeseen changes, showing gratitude for everything that is good, and helping others to achieve their best lives. 

This line from Odds Are offers me comfort that at the end of the day, everything will be fine. Not extraordinary. Not phenomenal. Not detrimental. Everything is likely going to be the best it can be.

I am grateful for this Barenaked Ladies song because it gives me hope in my life with MS. I know it seems like I am often too optimistic about living with MS, but I learned from organizational psychologist and author Adam Grant that optimism is not a bad thing.

“Informed optimism doesn't mean you only look at the bright side. It means you don't overlook the bright side,” Grant has written. “If you don't see the possibility, you can't solve problems. If you can't imagine a best case, you don't make things better … The greatest antidote to fear is grounded hope.”

It is hope that keeps us moving forward in spite of this disease. Hope for a cure. Hope for better treatments. Hope for a better tomorrow.

Will any of this happen? After 25 years of playing the odds, I still am willing to bet on it.