The Under Review - Issue 4 | Summer 2021

ZIMLICH 11
Fear is the most common manifestation of MS. Everyone who has MS has fear. We all wonder when the
time bomb we polish will blow. As I catch my breath, finally stretch those well-deserving muscles, finally
let the thoughts return, I am greeted by that familiar feeling. I feel it in my legs where I know persistent
numbness. I feel it in the tingling that begins when my head tilts forward to tie my shoes, glance at a crack,
bow in prayer. Two-hundred angry bees return to remind me that I have MS. But I breathe and stretch and
pray regardless. I remind myself that fear is either side of the same coin. One side is real fear, gripping the
throat and constricting the flow of air. This fear happens during a real threat and signals the body to take
action. The other side of the coin is imaginary fear, the fear that says my legs may someday stop. Someday.
The fear that imagines me in a wheelchair or sees me clutch my neck and pound my chest because my
lungs forgot to keep breathing. Imagined. My legs have not yet stopped. My lungs continue to pull in air.
This side of the coin of fear is the imaginary fear side, that haunts me more than the real fear side. But
because imagined fear is such a powerful tool, can’t I also use my imagination for good?
Today, I sit quiet with my eyes shut. I imagine the miles that stretch out from my position in all directions. I
can go out from here in any route I choose. I choose to see myself take the trolley trail behind the house,
follow it down into Bethesda and around the shops and National Institute of Health complex. The day is
sunny but I can do this imagination exercise even on a cloudy day or a rainy day—maybe especially on a
rainy day. I imagine myself strong and healthy, feel my legs pull at the earth with each step. I breathe in and
out as I visualize the run. I remind myself that even if I have to slow down or walk, I can do this. I can run as
long as I can still move these legs. Imaginary fear creeps in but I push it away with imaginary triumph; I feel
the rewards of my success, imagine the feeling of cresting that hill and heading downward toward home,
see the last sprint as I return to my street, driveway, front door. I take in the feeling, now radiating from my
chest. A successful run. Now, I am ready to begin.
ISSUE 4 | SUMMER 2021