The Under Review - Issue 4 | Summer 2021

9
Imaginary Fear
RHONDA ZIMLICH
Because multiple sclerosis (MS) is an erratic chronic illness affecting each person in a unique way, I cannot
say how mine is like yours or how it is different. I can tell you where I experience MS in my own body. I
have numbness in my legs and arms, mostly on my left side. I experience exacerbations that turn my knees
inward, collapsing my legs with the weight of my body as I try to walk, stifling my gait and shuffling my
feet. I have vertigo, though not often. I have cognitive delays, but who’s to say this isn’t because I am nearly
50 years old. All of my symptoms are mine, unique to my experience, shared by others but not everyone.
But there are parts of the MS experience which are universal. The first one I think of is fear.
I feel afraid that I will someday be unable to walk, or run, or dance. This fear imagines me reliant upon
someone else to do simple tasks. This fear sees me grow heavy and sedentary. And though some might be
afraid to lose their vision or the dexterity of their hands or bladder control, we all have fear. This is a
universal concern for us.
Perhaps fear is what fostered my desire to run long distances, though I could also argue that something
happens on a long run that becomes its own motivator. Let me see if I can capture the feeling:
I head out the door a little anxious, a little eager. I set my Strava app and Garmin watch because one shows
the world what I do and the other is just for me. I take a breath; this is intentional and pushes away the
fear of suffocation that haunts some of us. Lungs and other involuntary muscles have been known to just
stop for people with MS; the communication between the brain and muscles gets jumbled and wires are
crossed or connections are blocked. Short circuits are not limited to just ambulatory functions either.
Cognitive delays are also a concern. So I roll my neck as I walk to the end of the driveway. I connect my
thinking brain to my body. I stretch loosely, just my arms and shoulders. My running team jokes that only
newbies stretch legs before a run; stretching comes after, saved for moments of long savoring, free of
anticipation. Homage to the muscles that have carried us three, five, fifteen miles that day.
My first few steps find the rhythm and I glide into a pattern. Tap, tap, tap, tap. My arms swing with the
cadence of my footfalls. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. I feel the first few minutes in my lungs as they
ISSUE 4 | SUMMER 2021