“Awesome! I hope you will be able to speak at the event,” replied Michelle in her email response. She was referring to the YouTube link I sent of the short video of my family and me. The Gateway Area Chapter of the National Multiple Sclerosis Society commissioned it when I had been honored with the 2010 Gateway Area Chapter of the National Multiple Sclerosis Society's Father of the Year award.
Michelle Keating, a chapter board member and fellow multiple sclerosis survivor, contacted me at the suggestion of Rebecca Fehlig, Chapter President, whom I had met earlier that Spring at a fundraising event. Michelle was organizing the 2014 MS Evening of Hope (the first ever event of its kind by the Chapter) and asked if I would be one of the speakers, sharing “what gives me hope.” Many of the attendees would be newly diagnosed, most likely scared of what their futures might hold, now that they contain those two words, Multiple Sclerosis. They might likely feel pretty hopeless...
I jumped at the invitation, emphatically saying, “YES.” This was exactly the kind of opportunity I had been hoping for, yet never expected. Since my forced disability retirement from medicine, I had been searching, trying to figure out my life’s next chapter, especially as my children got older and my primary parental duties lessened.
I knew that I did not want to return to pathology, an area of medicine not entered into by choice. “Time to have fun,” I decided. Reflecting on my education and training, personal struggles and triumphs, my gift for gab making a short story long, and my passion for performing in my youth, I felt that public/ motivational speaking would be a great way for me to have fun meaningfully. A ridiculous pipe dream, I know.
In fact, I had practically no public speaking experience, limited to fundraising events, thanking donors for their generosity, and telling them how their donations were helping the MS community. I had only spoken about myself in the “Memoirs” class I’ve been taking over the past year at the Lifelong Learning Institute at Washington University . There, I only spoke to at most ten people at a time. I call my classmates my “editorial board.”
Anguishing over what in my life could possibly give someone starting their new journey in, if not my shoes, ones that will most likely look awfully similar, I asked my friend and fellow MS survivor, Pat Sachs. She immediately responded, “Creativity,” -- a story I recently wrote for class. “What’s more hopeful than children?” she continued. Modifying my story to the venue, I had my MS Evening of Hope talk.
The week before the event, when Michelle and I were arranging a time to meet and discuss the upcoming event, I informed her my talk was roughly nine minutes long. “I’m sorry but you only have 5-7 minutes to talk. You’ll need to cut it down,” she responded.
“But where?” I thought. I cut a few words, rearranged a few sentences, and actually added a few details.
- to be continued -
