Living with Multiple Sclerosis (Ms) for over 50 Years: A Diagnosis After 25 Years

By Laurice B. Karrell

Living with Multiple Sclerosis (MS) for over 50 Years: A Diagnosis after 25 Years, is an autobiography of Laurice B. Karrell. This book, which is divided into decades, delineates her multiple sclerosis (MS) exacerbations beginning with her first major symptom in 1958. It then goes on to describe her futile search over many years for a diagnosis. It finally culminates with a diagnosis twenty-five years later when sophisticated medical equipment becomes available. This book is intended for both newly diagnosed patients and those who are living with the disease.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 27, 2010
• ISBN: 9781453561386

Laurice B. Karrell

Laurice B. Karrell worked in the high-tech sector in the capacity of senior technical editor and technical editing supervisor for a total of thirty-three years. She started her technical editing career in 1958 (until 1969) at National Radio Company, manufacturers of a wide range of amateur radio equipment, which also fulfilled government and military contracts. Ms. Karrell attended Boston University, focusing on short-story writing and creative writing. She endured multiple sclerosis for over fifty years and was finally diagnosed with the disease after twenty-five years of her first major exacerbation.

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Contents

Preface

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

To Jimmy

Preface

This autobiography, which is divided into decades, delineates my MS symptoms and experiences for over fifty years, interspersed with my personal events. It is intended both for newly diagnosed patients and for patients who are living with this disease.

For those of you who have been newly diagnosed with MS, this book is meant to demonstrate that you are able to live long, productive, and normal lives, especially if you were diagnosed with MS when you were young.

For those of you who are living with MS, this book may help you to identify your symptoms and experiences with the ones that I have experienced over the many years.

ONE

The ’40s: My Youth and Teenage Years

My Early Years

I was born in 1930 in Boston, Massachusetts, one year after the start of the Great Depression, the youngest of four children. I was referred to as a depression baby; however, by the time I was born, my parents owned both a telephone and an automobile, which were considered a great luxury in those depressed days.

I was too young to remember very much about the Great Depression, but I remember that money was very tight in those days, and my parents would literally think twice before spending a nickel. I remember that some of our neighbors would sometimes come to our home to use our telephone. During my youth, my father, partnered with my aunt’s husband, owned what was popularly called a variety store in Harvard Square, Cambridge, Massachusetts, directly across the street from the Harvard (University) Yard.

I lived in a neighborhood of Boston called Allston, which is administered collectively with the adjacent neighborhood of Brighton; the two are often referred to as Allston-Brighton.

As a child and as a teenager, I was extremely thin and wiry, but I was as healthy as my peers were even though I was somewhat of a fussy eater. Extreme thinness was equated to tuberculosis in those days. I was extremely sensitive and self-conscious about my too-thin frame, especially because well-meaning friends and relatives often questioned my parents about my health while I was present.

The Boston public school system, which was founded in 1647, is the oldest public school system in America. It is also the home of the nation’s first public school, Boston Latin School, which was founded in 1635.

When I was four years old, the Boston school system, which was reputed to be one of the best school systems in the country at that time, was experimenting with an accelerated program for proficient four-year-old children (preschool was unheard of in those days).

These children were required to pass a verbal test following a series of commands to determine if they could comprehend, remember, and then follow the series of commands. The goal of this program was to determine if four-year-old children were mentally and socially ready to start kindergarten.

I was a candidate for this experiment; I turned four in August, started school in September, and graduated high school while I was still sixteen.

This experimental program didn’t last very long, however. I never knew how long it was in operation or the reason why the program ended. I had heard that although some of the young children excelled in class, many of them were too socially immature to start school at an earlier age, which resulted in social problems in later grades.

A Severe Reprimand

Being the youngest of four children, I was somewhat spoiled and given to temper tantrums. When I was about four years old and attending kindergarten, I had a horrible habit of jumping up and down and screaming at the top of my lungs at the same time if I was displeased about anything.

My father was a quiet, very reserved man who never swore or raised his voice, and my antics upset him no end. He constantly reprimanded me about my unacceptable behavior and threatened to send me to reform school if I didn’t change my ways. However, nothing he said changed my intolerable ways, and my screams continued to be heard a block away.

One day my father told the family to get in the car because he was going to take the family for a ride. The family piled into the car, and my father drove down some streets that were unfamiliar to me.

We finally arrived at my father’s destination. He stopped in front of a large redbrick building. He turned his head toward me and told me that the building was a reform school that would be my future home because of my stamping and screaming.

My father told me in a very quiet voice to say good-bye to the family and to go into the building where I would be living because of my bad behavior.

My mother and siblings didn’t show any emotion, so I didn’t shed any tears. I said good-bye to everyone and got out of the car. I stood in front of the building for about a minute and vividly remember thinking, It doesn’t look too bad. It looks like a nice building. But I was scared to death.

I proceeded to go up the few brick stairs when my brother came running after me. He told me that my mother and father said that I could go back home with the family if I promised not to stamp my feet and scream. My brother, who was four years my senior, was very excited to tell me this terrific news.

I calmly told my brother that I couldn’t promise because I wasn’t sure if I would stop behaving that way. My brother was shocked at my response. We discussed the situation for a few minutes, and then he came up with a wonderful idea. He told me that I should cross my fingers behind my back and tell my parents that I promised to change even if I didn’t mean it.

His explanation sounded reasonable, and he was older than I was, so I agreed to do what he suggested. To everyone’s delight, I went back into the car, crossed my fingers behind my back, and promised to reform.

I later learned that my father had told my mother and siblings about the forthcoming ride to the reform school, which is why they didn’t show any emotion when my father told me to walk up the reform school steps. Also, I learned that it wasn’t really a reform school but only an impressive redbrick building.

I rarely stamped and screamed from that point on and slowly started to reform, and I have never forgotten this experience.

My First School

The first school I attended consisted of kindergarten up to the sixth grade and was within easy walking distance from my home.

I loved school and always tried very hard to stay at the top of my class. However, I didn’t like the sewing and cooking classes that were mandatory in the Boston school system when girls were in the sixth grade. I was ten years old, and I disliked both classes. In the sewing class, each girl was required to sew a dress, which consisted of both hand and machine sewing.

I didn’t mind the hand sewing—such as basting, hemming, and running stitch—but I disliked the machine sewing and especially disliked the noise of the sewing machines.

I must admit, though, that I was proud of my finished product: a pretty two-piece skirt and blouse.

A Mysterious Illness

Also, in the ’40s, my parents often took the family to visit an aunt and uncle who lived in the country, who had a teenage daughter with a mysterious illness that caused her to walk unsteadily. This illness seemed to appear overnight to my healthy cousin.

My parents didn’t know the name of the illness; in fact, even my cousin’s parents may not have known the name of the illness at that time. Illness was considered to be a stigma in those days. Most people rarely discussed illnesses of family members as opposed to today when people often enjoy talking about their illnesses in detail and sometimes endlessly, even to total strangers.

My Favorite Teenage Sports

I was always very active and relished being a tomboy. I strived to compete in the activities that boys participated in, such as climbing trees and performing what were then considered to be risky tricks on bicycles, especially for girls.

My home in Allston was a little more than two miles away from Harvard Square, Cambridge, Massachusetts, where the famed Harvard University is located and where two of my cousins and I would very often take brisk walks. During these walks, I would often make up stories as we walked, which my cousins enjoyed and which I enjoyed creating.

My favorite sport, which I dearly loved, was bicycle riding. Bicycles were referred to as bikes back then, as opposed to today’s connotation of bikes that are often referred to as motorcycles.

I used to ride my late brother Freddie’s bike; when I was about twelve, I inherited his bike when he started to drive. I rode what was commonly called a boy’s bike. The bikes that we kids rode had no gears, so the faster we wanted to go, the faster we had to pedal. And the only way we could stop our bikes was to pedal in the reverse direction.

I liked to show off by doing the so-called tricks on my bike that the boys in my neighborhood taught me, which was considered very daring for a girl in the ’40s. The so-called tricks in those days are laughable compared to today’s achievements. Today’s young sportsmen have fearless attitudes accompanied with the refinement and sophistication of today’s sports equipment.

My very first so-called trick was the easiest and presumably the same as that of almost every young bike rider: riding with no hands when I was coasting or pedaling. There were very few automobiles that drove down the streets of our neighborhood in the ’40s, so after carefully looking around to assure that there weren’t any automobiles in sight, I liked to close my eyes while I pedaled with no hands, silently reciting the Lord’s Prayer as I pedaled. I don’t remember why I chose this particular prayer, or why I chose to foolishly close my eyes, but I feverishly tried to complete this prayer with my eyes closed. However, I was only able to silently recite a few lines of the prayer before I would become frightened to death, and I would give up the attempt of trying to finish it.

One of my favorite so-called tricks was to pull up the front wheel of my bike as I was coasting and then continue to coast with only the rear wheel touching the ground. This trick was a lot of fun and didn’t seem to me to be very daring.

The trick that was the most difficult and considered very dangerous was to crouch down and stand on the seat of the bike for a few seconds as I was coasting. This trick took a very long time to learn and was by far the most challenging.

I saw this action performed on TV recently, but the professional bike