I like to responsibly enjoy adult beverages from time to time, but man, sometimes MS makes me look like a terrible drunk.
Consider: the central nervous system—comprised of the brain and the spinal cord—which, ya know, is kind of a big deal as far as systems go. MS is a disease which damages the central nervous system, slowing or interrupting communication between the brain/spinal cord and literally the entire rest of the body. Alcohol is a chemical depressant, and it affects the central nervous system in essentially the same way, by slowing signals that allow one to function normally. There’s a reason why the physical exam my neurologist performs on me every time I go see her—stand on one foot, now the other, follow my pen with just your eyes, walk along this straight line—is strikingly similar to a field sobriety test. A person who has had too much MS can look an awful lot like a person who’s had too many Jack and Cokes.
When these two—MS and alcohol—get together, they can sometimes do a real number on me. When I say that MS makes me look like a bad drunk, I don’t mean that I appear to be an alcoholic (I mean, perhaps I do, but that has nothing to do with the MS). It’s the opposite, actually. I mean that there are times when, after (or even while) enjoying a SINGLE tasty adult beverage, I quickly devolve into the cheapest date you’ve ever known. One glass of wine, and suddenly, even though my mental faculties are still totally ship-shape, my physical capacities take on the appearance of a first-time drinker attacking the liquor cabinet with the no-fucks-given speed and recklessness of someone who has just learned that a comet is headed straight for earth and we’ve all got 45 minutes until it’s lights out forever. My speech gets slurred. When I try to pick up a fork, I find that my coordination has gone bye-bye for the night. And balance? Yeah, nope.
All of this, resulting from ONE drink. I’m 40 years old, and lord knows I ain’t new to the drinking scene. One beer should not have this effect. One whiskey sour should not turn me into that person who people look at across the bar and think, wow, time to cut her off. Especially when I’m NOT DRUNK. Not even close.
And yeah, I know this is totally a first world problem. I know that it’s ridiculous to complain about how I appear when I choose to partake in a recreational substance. “If you don’t like what it does to you, you could just not drink, you know.” Yep. I get it. Thanks!
But that’s not the point. The point is that I shouldn’t HAVE to stop doing something just because my body forgets how to function when I do it. I hate that this disease makes me hesitant to enjoy certain aspects of my life. It holds me back from being myself. It embarrasses me.
And the reality is that MS is degenerative. There are things I can do to slow the progress of the disease, but there’s not a way to repair damage that’s already been done, and it’s likely that my MS will continue to impair me. There may come a time when I look like I’ve had a few too many when I’ve had none at all. It’s fucking scary and it makes me angry.
But I’m not an angry person, so, for now anyway, I don’t let the fear and the anger take hold for very long. I talk openly about MS in the hopes of educating people who don’t know much about it (like me, before I was diagnosed). I continue to try and live my life as if I don’t have a disease. But also, I’m real with the people who are closest to me, so I can lean on them for help and understanding, and maybe sometimes, for literal, physical support. My tribe is pretty fucking great, and that’s about the best I can hope for. So I say, cheers to that!
