I am freaked. Not about the diagnosis, but about the treatment. I have known from the beginning that treatment would present huge obstacles for me. Yet, I have felt fairly confident about the neurologist's recommendation, Copaxone. Yes, most definitely, I was scared about the daily injections; however, I knew I could get through them one baby-step at a time. But, since then,  I have done a little digging,  and I have learned more about an intense side effect reaction to Copaxone that includes difficulty breathing, chest pain, and a warm flush over the whole body. While I had read about this side effect initially in Copaxone literature, I felt reassured because it only happens to ten percent of all patients; I assumed that if I didn't have an initial bad reaction, I would be in the all-clear. 

Most unfortunately,  this not at all the case. In fact, a patient can experience this intense side effect at any point over the course of treatment. It could be the first injection, the twentieth, or the three-hundreth. Every MS blogger who experienced this reaction stressed how extremely scary the reaction was and emphasized how grateful they were that a family member was at home with them at the time. The reaction is so intense that it can be difficult to move, call for help, or use the phone. The reaction usually lasts 10-20 minutes and does not require medical treatment, but it is an intensely frightening set of minutes.

Now, I am not much into scaring the pants off myself by reading lots of frightening web material or by projecting what might happen. But, this information has seriously paused me because I need to take into consideration that I already struggle (and for the most part successfully manage) anxiety. Most importantly, I live alone, so I don't have anyone who can reassure me if this should happen.

I have not ruled out taking this medication, but I am using a strategy that has worked in other areas of my life, which is to brainstorm five possible plans and to see which one or combination of several possible answers make the most sense.  So, I am seriously considering the following five possibilities:

Plan A: Go on Copaxone. Do nothing about the potential side effects; just see how it goes.

Plan B: Work with my therapist and other complementary healing practioners to create 

strategies to manage the reaction in case it happens. Practice breathing, etc. Go on Copaxone.

Plan C: Go on Copaxone + practice breathing + discontinue immediately after first episode.

Plan D: Do not go on Copaxone. Insist on another medication.

Plan E: Get a second opinion on the medication.

Plan A is out, but plans B-E all make sense to make, so I will explore each of them fully. 

This side effect reaction is terrifying because the fact that you're not dying is cold comfort when you're in the midst of a reaction that feels like you most definitely are. 

Packages keep arriving. First, the autoject device. Then, a small carrying bag, a cold compress, daily journal, and two magnets (one magnet for me to list the reasons I will take Copaxone, the other to chart the locations of my daily injections). Finally, a large spiral bound patient education booklet and glossy brochures on the benefits of medication. 

It's been just ten days since I have been diagnosed with MS. Although I knew this was a possibility, I was stunned nonetheless. What has been hardest is to reconcile how great I have been feeling with the diagnosis. But, as the neurologist so cogently put it, "It is what it is. And, it's been what it's been."

Seeing my brain was cool, though. The neurologist pulled the brain scan up  on the computer screen. He showed me layer, after layer of my brain from the base of my neck to my crown. I saw the three old lesions, and one, bright, shiny new spot. 

I scheduled my flu and pneumonia shots; I requested the application paperwork for NORD, an organization that helps individuals cover the staggering cost of medication ($2,200/month); I spoke to the Copaxone staff several times; I called the Student Insurance office; I followed up on several referrals; I researched the medication and read up on the side effects. 

I am stilling reeling; I am still trying to get my bearings.