...About Leaving the Express Lane.

After I was first diagnosed with MS 3 years ago, I began to disappear. The week before I had been a successful, bright, and beautiful career woman who had made it--you know, the type the fashion magazines write about. Healthy, active, physically fit, with a fabulous career, wardrobe, boyfriend, and sports car.

Then suddenly I had a debilitating, progressive disease with no cure. I felt like I no longer existed. I didn't know this new woman and I didn't like her, and I didn't believe my boyfriend would want to know her either.

One of my more distressing moments involved my friend Joanne. We are the same age, and had been promoted to equal positions. Our competition was intense, both at the office and at the gym. We would race there after work to get in a quick step workout. I didn't hear from her after I was diagnosed, and I felt angry and betrayed. When I finally called her, she began to cry. She explained that if it could happen to me, it could just as easily happen to her. "There but for the grace of God go I," she said. I understood her distance because I wished I could distance myself from this disease as well.

The first month was the toughest. I lay on my couch crying nonstop. I geared myself to have a serious conversation with my boyfriend, Chuck. We had been dating for over 5 years, and living together for 2. I felt tremendous guilt about becoming sick. He fell in love with an independent successful woman, not this new person who might become a major burden. I told him I would understand if he needed to bail out. He just laughed and said, "Beth, you have always been high maintenance. So what if I have to push you in a wheelchair or carry you to bed?"

My favorite fashion magazine arrived in the same mailing as a collection of literature I had requested from the National MS Society. I flung the fashion magazine across the room. "This magazine isn't about me anymore. Get it away from me." I pointed to the MS magazine. "This is who I am now."

But I really couldn't resist the appeal of the latest fashions. As I started flipping through, 2 letters caught my eye--"MS". My magazine had chosen to do a stow on women with MS. Women like me living with MS and leading full lives. I began to cry. I felt hope for the first time.

Life has changed for me in many ways. Maybe not the ways I expected it to change, but the changes are good. I used to rush into a supermarket after a hectic day to pick up something quick for dinner. I remember one day when I was at my maximum stress load. I grabbed 5 items and headed to an express lane clearly labeled "10 Items or Less". I fixated on how many items the woman in front of me had in her cart. Thirteen! She had 4 cans of beans on sale for 4 for a dollar. The sign read "10 Items or Less"! I wanted to throw those cans of beans at her one at a time. Then she would realize they counted as 4 separate items.

I am still me, but a me I have learned to like much better. I am still Beth, but I'm a slower, more relaxed, more compassionate Beth. I did have to leave my career, but I discovered a whole different person existed besides "Miss Jones New York, size 6, with matching Nine West pumps." Now I would never think of telling a cruel joke or laughing at someone less fortunate than me.

Chuck and I have been married for 2 years. He keeps me laughing when things get tough. I don't go to the express lane at the supermarket anymore. I let the woman in the suit and matching pumps grab that place in line. I notice her counting the items in the cart in front of her. Today I smile and think, "There but for the grace of God go I."

Beth Rothstein Ambler enjoys traveling, reading, writing, and spending time with her twin sister--things she never used to have time for.