When Bedside Manner Goes Wrong

My journey with my multiple sclerosis diagnosis was not long, but it was one I will never forget. It began in 1996 when I first experienced what I thought was something minor in my eye. After two doctor visits, I was told it was optic neuritis and that it would likely go away. Unfortunately, it did not.

My multiple sclerosis diagnosis journey

About two years later, I was working the night shift when I felt a strange butterfly sensation in my stomach. I mentioned it to my boss, who asked if I wanted to go home. I said no because I wasn't concerned. The next day, the sensation had moved down my left thigh. The fact that it was all happening on the left side is important. The following day, it had traveled up to my chest. The day after that, it spread all the way down to my toes. Then, on Sunday, the sensation reached my face.

My sister's warning/h2>

When I told my sister what had been happening, she immediately said, "Hospital. NOW! You could be having a stroke." I laughed at her. I was only 28 years old at the time.

At the hospital, I saw a doctor who completely dismissed my concerns. He told me I was having a migraine without the headache. I remember thinking, "WTF!" He advised me that if the symptoms continued, I should follow up with my family doctor.

The first mention of MS

The very next day, I was sitting in my GP's office. After reviewing all of my symptoms, she told me that I might have either MS or fibromyalgia. She wanted me to return to the hospital and see a neurologist.

I was admitted for a CT scan and stayed overnight for a CT scan with contrast. The neurologist told me he didn't see anything concerning, but he wanted to schedule an MRI. He never told me what he was looking for and didn't prescribe any medication. He simply sent me home.

Back to the hospital

A few weeks later, I returned to my GP because I was having problems with my hand and leg. Once again, I was sent back to the hospital. During my multiple sclerosis diagnosis, I was sent for further neurological testing, including electrical response tests to measure how my brain reacted to stimulation.

This time, I underwent a series of tests where they used electrical shocks to measure how long it took my brain to respond. The technician noticed something was wrong with the readings. Thinking the equipment might be connected incorrectly, she switched the leads and repeated the test.

The results were exactly the same.

An unexpected conversation

She tried again. Same result. After several attempts, she called in the neurologist on call. To my surprise, the neurologist who walked in was my neurologist. He examined the setup, reattached the leads, and repeated the test himself. Again, the results were abnormal. He switched the leads and tested me again. Same issue.

Finally, he told the technician to finish the testing. Then he asked, "Who is your neurologist?"

I replied, "You are."

He looked surprised and asked, "When was your MRI?"

"Two weeks ago," I answered.

"Okay, get dressed. I'll go see if the results are ready."

About ten minutes later, he returned. He handed me his business card and said, "You have MS. Make an appointment for two weeks from now." Then he turned around and walked away.

Life after my MS diagnosis

Two years later, after not being placed on any disease-modifying therapies (DMTs) or symptom-management medications, I was still seeing the same MS neurologist. Despite the rough and abrupt diagnosis, he turned out to be an alright neurologist in the long run. Looking back at my multiple sclerosis diagnosis, the way I received the news is something I will never forget.