Tuesday, November 7, 2017
Sunday, August 13, 2017
MS Focus magazine summer 2017 article
Mobility Devices Provide Freedom
Rudy Yanuck
"I'm too young." Or "It will make me look
disabled." Or "I'm not THAT disabled." These are some of the
excuses I have given when various assistive mobility devices (AMDs) have been
offered, or suggested to me. Do any of these excuses sound familiar? If so,
then you and I have something in common.
Multiple sclerosis has affected me nearly my entire life
even though my own diagnosis didn’t come until the age of 27. My father and
three of my aunts all had MS. I
was only 12 when my father began using an electric scooter to get around outside
of the house. His model was cumbersome, heavy, and hard to assemble. I must admit it was a hassle for my
mother and me to unload the scooter from the car, assemble, then disassemble
and reload it every time we went somewhere. Not for my father though, who would
wait in the front seat.
Fortunately, technology has made great strides since then for
those of us with MS. Over the last 23 years, I have experimented with many AMDs.
I found some, such as walkers and three or four pronged canes, actually made me
unstable, hindering my mobility. While others, such as Lofstrand crutches
(forearm crutches) and ankle foot orthotics (AFOs) help me tremendously with
issues of balance and stability as, well as foot drop and ankle rolling.
As a cocky, young, physician, I first resisted using a
scooter. However, I soon found
traversing the long hallways at the hospital far too daunting. I quickly changed
my tune and happily accepted the first of many scooters to come. With the newer
models being much easier to manage, I promised myself I would not allow the
scooter to become a burden for my family, as it had been for me during my teen
years. I decided to make loading and unloading the scooter my responsibility,
for as long as I am able.
At that point, I was still walking on my own my home and in
the office, but I found that the scooter reintroduced me to many things I had
taken for granted in my pre-MS life. I rediscovered activities that I had not even
realized I was avoiding. I started going shopping, to the mall, to the park,
and on "walks" with my family again. I became part of their lives once more.
The scooter was, and still is, very freeing. Now days, the
scooter is my main form of transportation around my home and neighborhood. I
frequently, if not daily, scooter to grocery stores, restaurants, the library,
and, in the summer, to the pool to swim two or three times a day. Over the
years, I generally have had two or three of my children with me, standing,
sitting, or hanging off the scooter as I drove by. I became known in the
neighborhood as the scooter dad with those happy kids. Their riding positions
became a rite of passage. Starting as infants, they sat on my lap. As toddlers,
they stood or sat in front of me. Finally, by the age of six or seven, they
stood behind me holding onto the seatback for dear life.
Scooters are not the only AMDs to have a tremendous impact
on helping me remain independent.
A little over 10 years ago while driving, my oldest daughter caught me
grabbing the hem of my shorts to lift my leg, moving my foot from the
accelerator to the break pedal. The look of horror on her face informed me it
was time to make a serious change. I had a digital accelerator ring (DAR) hand
control system installed in my car. The DAR has been a godsend and has enabled
me to continue driving, keeping me from being housebound and maintaining my
independence.
I can't tell you the number of new friends I have made just
by cruising around on my scooter, or from people asking me about the ring on
top of my steering wheel. People generally want you to succeed and love
engaging in conversation. As a matter of fact, I recently went on a Caribbean
cruise with my scooter and became somewhat of a rock star by the end of the
trip, I’m told.
However, a word of advice to new scooter warriors: never
leave home without a fully charged battery, charger, and cell phone. You don't want
to run out of juice or those new friends of yours will be pushing you and your
scooter home.
Rudy would love to
hear about the trials and triumphs of your MS journey to share in his talks and
blog. He believes, together, we inspire and empower each other. To have Rudy speak at your local chapter, business, or organization
contact him via email at rryanuck@gmail.com or his blog www.rudysmsblog.blogspot.com
for booking information.
Sunday, July 2, 2017
2017 MS Evening of Hope
July 2, 2017
Dear Friends and Family,
The 4th annual “MS Evening of Hope” will be on July 26, 2017, presented by MS Bright Spots of Hope. Using the same format as previous years, this program will reduce isolation and the obstacle of poverty, create social support for those with MS and their support partners, and renew spirits and sense of well being. Over 140 persons are expected. It will be held at Von Gottard Conference Center, Mercy St. Louis campus, 621 S. New Ballas Rd, St. Louis, MO 63141.
The evening will begin with a reception with vendors/exhibitors followed by dinner and an inspirational program including patient speakers ( This will be my fourth time giving the keynote speech. ) and attendees sharing stories of hope. The program includes a beautiful quilt presentation and live music. The event was created by Michelle Keating RN, MSCN with her Dream team committee.
Please consider sponsorship for the event? The sponsorship donation should be to MS Bright Spots of Hope (tax ID number is 81-1794680). On behalf of those whose lives are affected by MS, thank you for your support. Please mail your donation to MS Evening of Hope, 12004 Jacobson Ct, Bridgeton, MO 63044
Thank Your Support.
Rudy Yanuck MD
Contact
Phone: 314-443-8945
email: rryanuck@gmail.com
Blog: rudysmsblog.blogspot.com
Sponsorship Levels
Presenting Sponsor $7500
Receives recognition as a Presenting Sponsor in the program and all media releases
- Receives recognition at the Event with display of Company name and presentation of quilt to Company/Individual representative
“Connector to Hope” Sponsor $2500
- Receives recognition as a “Connector to Hope” Sponsor in the program and all media releases
- Receives recognition at the Event with display of Company name, opportunity to display or distribute promotional and/or educational materials and presentation of “hope” gift to Company representative
Vendor/Exhibit Sponsor $1000
- Receives recognition as a Vendor Sponsor in the program and all media releases
- Receives recognition at the Event with display of Company name in table tent
- Opportunity to display or distribute promotional and/or educational materials
Table Sponsor $500
- Receives recognition as a Table Sponsor in the program and all media releases
- Receives recognition at the Event with display of Company name in table tent
Half Table Sponsor $250
- Receives recognition as a Half Table Sponsor in the program and all media releases
- Receives recognition at the Event with display of Company name in table tent
“In honor of/In memory of your individual MS Connection” Sponsor $25
- Receives recognition as an individual MS Connection Sponsor in the program, in honor of/in memory of…
Kindest regards,
Rudy
Contact
Phone: 314-443-8945
email: rryanuck@gmail.com
Blog: rudysmsblog.blogspot.com
Wednesday, April 26, 2017
I FOUND IT!
“I found it! I found my bubble! My bubble is back! I’M BACK!” These words resounded in my head as I scootered through the Promenade on the fifth deck of the Royal Caribbean Cruise line’s 3rd largest ship, the Oasis of the Seas. I was invited to speak to the MS cruisers on the ship by the nonprofit organization MS Bright Spots of Hope. Together, we would spend 7 nights in the Caribbean having ports of call in the Bahamas, St Thomas, and St Maarten before returning to Port Canaveral, Florida.
My "bubble" or "joy bubble", is how my mom and her two sisters described me as a little boy - a term they used to depict the pure effervescent joy and happiness I showed for everything. However, as I grew out of childhood and my teen years, my "bubble" began to shrink. With the accumulating responsibilities and stresses of adulthood, it kept getting smaller and smaller until it felt lost forever. Thankfully, on the cruise, I discovered I was wrong. It was still there inside of me, waiting to be nurtured and given room to grow.
Upon boarding the ship the afternoon of March 5, 2017, I immediately felt the stress and worries from the outside world begin to melt away. The weight on my shoulders gifted me by life began to lighten. As I scootered further into the ship a few of the veteran MS cruisers and a couple of freshmen MS cruisers greeted me. I soon began to experience myself among comrades in arms, among old friends I had never met. I felt at home.
In addition to fantastic ports of call, we had exciting creative arts activities sponsored by MS Bright Spots of Hope: ceramic tile decorating, watercolor painting, and bracelet making. Also, talks were given by Brandi Johns, Mary Ellen Ziliak and her husband Roger, Dennis Tooley, and myself at sessions throughout the week. And finally, we had the most memorable closing event, “MS Evening of Hope” featuring myself as one of the speakers and sponsored by Bright Spots. I was also awed by Dennis who gave us an excellent lesson on how to handle, with grace and acceptance, the obstacles and knuckleballs MS presents. His unexpected temporarily loss of vision did not keep him from giving his presentation. It was truly humbling and unbelievable.
So many moments and events of the cruise were truly memorable, like the Tuesday night Hoedown costume party where those of us in scooters and wheelchairs learned line dancing.
One particular incident, however, stands out for me. While sitting outside a restaurant, on the Promenade deck, sharing MS and the military horror sagas with another military Veteran cruiser, an attractive blonde cruiser, whom I had noticed on several occasions earlier in the week, walked by the table at which we were sitting. She turned around, walked over to our table, and sat down. She told me how much she enjoyed my previous night's talk at the MS Evening of Hope. She then began to share with me a few of the difficulties and pains that multiple sclerosis has brought into her life. She shared with me the feelings of isolation, loneliness, aloneness, and abandonment she deals with thanks to multiple sclerosis. She talked about how her friends slowly began distancing themselves from her. She shared about the social activities she used to attend, to which she no longer gets invited. As she shared. a tear began slowly sliding down her left cheek. Soon it was joined by another, and another, and another, until tears were freely, silently, flowing down both cheeks. I felt her pain. I remembered my own similar experiences early on in my journey with MS. I shared with her. I told her the one good thing to come from all of this is that one really gets to know who is a true friend. Who will stick by. She then echoed thoughts that had been on my mind about the cruise during the past week. She felt grateful for the cruise because It let her know she was not alone. She was not a “freak”. Thanks to the this cruise, she felt part of a family.
Nearly a month after the cruise, one night while brushing my teeth, I had a realization that stopped me abruptly, and made me sit back and really think. What struck me for the first time was I had probably been the most physically disabled person in our group of cruisers, likely, the most physically disabled person on the entire ship. Yet, not once during the cruise did I think about, or even feel my disabilities. I felt like I could, and did, do anything and everything I wanted. For that entire week I was just "Rudy", and not the "disabled guy in a red scooter". I felt completely at ease with my surroundings and my body, not once feeling the least bit disabled. I felt at home, part of a family.
Friends, that sentiment explains why this cruise activity is so important, so critical, for the well-being and vitality of us prisoners of multiple sclerosis. I rolled up onto the Oasis of the Seas an individual with multiple sclerosis. Quickly, I found myself part of a community. By the time I disembarked the ship on March 12, 2017, I felt part of a close knit family. I discovered my bubble had not disappeared. It still was within me, only dormant, waiting for the opportunity to flourish again. I found it!
If I were to sum up the cruise in one word, I would have to quote Barney Stinson, character on the CBS romantic comedy sitcom How I Met Your Mother (google it), “It was LEGEN….. wait for it….DARY. LEGENDARY!”
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