You & me: I need support, too.

When Steven felt the tingles all over his body, we didn't know what to make of them. So we called our doctor, who sent Steven to a university hospital for tests.

"Your husband has multiple sclerosis," the doctor said. "It's a debilitating and incurable neurological disease. I'm sorry." I was twenty-eight, Steven was thirty-one.

Outwardly, the pattern of our lives didn't change. Everything seemed normal. But nothing was. I was apprehensive, unsure of what might happen from day to day, unsure of being too solicitous or of not showing enough concern. Steven's health consumed our attention and stifled me, but I couldn't admit it.

It never occurred to us that we would end up waging an emotional war that would lead to a year-long separation, an eighteen-month truce, and a two-year battle before reconciliation.

Steven has the slow, progressive variety of MS. We decided not to tell anyone about it until his symptoms were more pronounced. Five years after diagnosis, they were. We told our parents and friends. Two years later, he started to use a cane. Then, he got a pair of crutches. Early in 1985, about ten years after he was diagnosed, Steven bought a motorized scooter, and then a wheelchair.

These events happened long before I thought they would, and a lot of hidden anger overtook me. The anger turned into anguish and then into depression so deep I needed psychiatric help to get out of it.

Steven and I deal with the realities of his MS differently, and we had to learn to acknowledge and respect those differences.

Our lives are good for the time being. We share the things we've always liked: movies, mysteries, museums, good food, the ballet. Steven still works full time. His MS may not get worse. A cure may be discovered. These things are all possible, but I try not to spend too much time thinking about them.

I have a new goal in life: To help other caregivers. My friend, Cindy Fowler, and I have started a not-for-profit organization, the National Family Caregivers Association (NFCA), to let other caregivers know they're not alone.

We don't suggest that giving care is as hard as needing it. But the caregiver gives up dreams, too. Caregiving means re-evaluating priorities, and making compromises. That's why NFCA was founded--to give caregivers help in meeting those challenges.

SUZANNE MINTZ is president and co-founder of National Family Caregivers Association, 9621 East Bexhill Drive, Kensington, MD, 20895-3104, or call 301-942-6430, which provides information and support to caregivers. Another organization, The Well Spouse Foundation, also provides emotional support for people married to a chronically ill person. Write P.O. Box 801, New York, NY 10023, or call 1-800-838-0879.