April 23, 2026
When I was diagnosed with MS almost 20 years ago, my neurologist surprised me by not recommending a support group. He said I seemed so positive that he worried a group of people with mixed feelings about their diagnoses might bring me down. Following his advice, I decided that if I ever needed help, I would be open about what was happening—especially since I had one more year of work before I could retire without affecting my pension.
Not long after, things started falling apart at work, so I shared my diagnosis with my supervisor. I’m so glad I did. I could have been forced into early retirement, which would have reduced my pension because I wasn’t yet 55. They assigned a file clerk because I could no longer file correctly, and a driver because it wasn’t safe for me to drive to inspect my properties. In my final months, my supervisor also assigned a fellow project manager to help me.
I’ve heard people say you should never let anyone know when your health is compromised. They warn, “You could lose your standing and your peers’ respect.” But respect from my peers wasn’t on my radar. For me, it was simply better not to keep my diagnosis hidden. And without a support group outside of work, I needed to learn how to navigate life with MS beyond the office.
Then it hit me: I could build my own support network. I started bringing friends and family closer by giving them “jobs.” When I met someone new, I was honest about what friendship with me could require. I wanted them to know it could be hard work—I was asking a lot. The amazing thing is that my new friends stepped up. They took on tasks like making sure I didn’t leave belongings behind, or that I didn’t accidentally take something that wasn’t mine. They also helped by supplying words—or even whole thoughts—when I couldn’t find them, keeping me out of the heat, and watching that I didn’t step into traffic or lose my footing near steep drop-offs. As my MS progresses, I keep adding more jobs. I think I’m up to about a dozen now.
The important thing to remember is that these vital communities come in many sizes and styles. It’s about finding what works for you. I’m blessed with a community that understands my symptoms and isn’t afraid of them. They give me steady support and much-needed humor. We laugh with each other and at each other, and I give them free rein to laugh at me, too.
I make sure they know how thankful I am to have them in my life. If I could have one prayer answered, it would be that anyone facing similar challenges—autoimmune diseases like MS, or any other illness—would be blessed with a loving community like mine… St. Paul’s.
