With the addition of a small suggestion from Michelle, I didn’t.
As I entered the venue for the Evening of Hope, Michelle hung a gift bag on my scooter containing an afghan, knitted by a cancer survivor, as a thank you. She informed me I would be the third of three speakers. My wife, eldest daughter, and I sat at a table next to my friend Pat, who had driven 2 hours from Columbia to hear my talk, and her grand - now THAT’S a good friend.
After the second speaker, Michelle began her introduction of the next speaker: me. As I made my way towards the podium, a petite blonde woman, I believed to be one of the NMSS Chapter staff, clipped a lapel microphone to my collar and handed my wife a wireless battery pack to clip to my belt, prepping me for my talk. I continued my trek to the podium, gave my talk - which went far better than I had hoped - and began the return trek to my seat. On the way back, the same woman as before unprepped me, removing the devices placed ten minutes earlier, and told me how well I had done. At my table, my wife told me that I did, “great, not a dry eye in the house”...including my own.
Michelle then began her presentation of a handmade quilt to the sponsor of the evening, another MS survivor, Brenda Snow, as a thank you not only for making our event possible, but also for all she has done for the MS community through her Snow Companies. Brenda went to the podium to accept her gift and speak. Much to my amazement, the woman I thought CHAPTER STAFF, MY PREPPER, walked to the podium!
At the conclusion of the evening, I had the opportunity to meet and mingle with a few of the attendees, both newly diagnosed, and “old salts” with regard to MS, like myself. In the newly diagnosed, I saw myself 20 years ago- upright, walking, no external visible signs of the internal war their bodies are waging against themselves. In the “old salts”, I saw myself now- long since able to keep secret the internal battles of war now visible, some still raging, others lost.
A Chapter volunteer and fellow MS survivor introduced herself to me. She invited me to become an MS Ambassador. As an Ambassador, I would have the opportunity to host a volunteer fair table, speak to a class of students, pass out pamphlets at fundraising events, and speak about MS at local organizations whenever the National MS Society is invited to do so. This is just the kind of meaningful fun for which I have been looking.
Brenda walked towards me. Passing by, she dropped her business card into the gift bag hanging on my scooter’s handlebars and said, “Shoot me an email tomorrow. It may take me a while to get back to you, but I will. I could use you.”
Michelle had asked me to speak at the event about what gives me hope, to try to give hope to those who may be struggling. Yet, I have no doubt, I left the event having just been given the most hope of anyone there. Heading to my car, I noticed a feeling I had not had in quite a while. I felt a “puff” in my chest, a confidence, the sense things could be, would be, great.
The next day, while reflecting on the event, I googled Brenda Snow. Reading about her, her Snow Companies, and her trademarked Patient AmbassadorTM model of direct-to-patient communications, empowering patients, giving voice to their disease, and sharing their personal inspiring stories, my eyes began to moisten. Tears slowly trickled. By the time I finished, tears were streaming down my face, my head echoing, “Could this be my life’s next chapter...”
