Postscript

After yesterday's visit with the neurologist, examination and discussion, it would appear that for all practical purposes there's nothing much wrong with me. Whew, what a relief. It's all in my head.

But hold on a sec . . . that's just the problem! That's what I was trying to say. It's in my head, in my brain. There's something wrong with my brain!

Lordy, Lordy.

Well I got some new pills, and the doc ordered another MRI.

Other than that, I'm on my own.

Having mustered the boldness to fuss and complain (not easy for a chronic stoic), to tell the doc straight out that based on my symptoms now as opposed to my symptoms a year ago, even a month ago, it seems clear to me that most everything has gotten worse--the stiffness in my legs, the aching, the imbalance, the fatigue, the eyesight, and the confusion--yes, most of all the confusion--he left me with the clinical gem that most patients (perhaps 70 percent) will rate the symptoms they are suffering as worse over time, when in fact they have remained clinically at baseline.

So, uh . . . yer calling me a liar?

So I am to double up on my baclofen and also begin a new prescription--NuVigil, a new improved version of Provigil, more potent, long acting.

Well hell, if they'd make this stuff available over the counter, I'd forget the doctors and treat myself.

Honestly, I'm just about to scrap all this--except for the MS, which seems rather doggedly attached to me--and keep my troubles to myself in the future.

I guess there are not a whole lot of good things to say about MS, but at least there is this: It is faithful to the bitter end.

This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptance.
1 Timothy 4:9