Jennifer and I watched a lot of football this past weekend.
A lot.
I mean, it was the opening weekend of the National Football League, and the college football season was heating up.
And somewhere between games, I found myself shouting at the ball carriers the same thing I’ve apparently shouted for many years.
“Straight ahead!”
It drives me crazy every time I see a running back dancing around behind the line of scrimmage, looking for an opening that isn’t there. Instead of gaining a yard or two, he loses four or five because his pointless dancing only gives defenders time to close in.
Stop hesitating, put your head down, and go forward.
The first time this happened over the weekend, I remembered something.
I’d written about this before.
Way back in February 2013, on the blog Jennifer and I had before A Couple Takes on MS, I published an essay called “Straight ahead! (with MS).” Football was the setup, but living with Multiple Sclerosis (MS) was the point.
More than 13 years later, I still have MS, I’m still watching football, and I’m still yelling at running backs.
Perhaps most importantly, I still believe what I wrote.
The game has changed
A lot has happened since 2013.
Jennifer and I have experienced more years of living with Multiple Sclerosis. Our abilities have changed. Our challenges have changed. We’ve learned more about what our bodies can do, what they can’t do, and how quickly either of those things can change.
But when I reread that old essay, one line especially stood out:
“Like any great coach, part of my game plan includes staying flexible to make ‘halftime’ adjustments if MS brings an unexpected scheme to the playing field.”
Apparently, 2013 me knew a thing or two.
Because if these additional years with MS have reinforced anything, it’s the importance of making adjustments.
Straight ahead doesn’t mean blindly charging forward regardless of what MS puts in front of me. It doesn’t mean pretending that fatigue, weakness, numbness, or any of the other realities of this disease aren’t there.
It means acknowledging them and figuring out what I need to do about them.
Sometimes the game plan works exactly as I drew it up. Other times, MS calls an audible for me.
I adjust, and then I keep going.
Moving forward can look different
That distinction feels even more important to me today than it did in 2013.
Moving forward doesn’t always look the way I expect it to look.
Sometimes it’s accomplishing everything I planned for the day. Sometimes it’s recognizing that I need to change those plans.
Sometimes progress is measured in big accomplishments. Other times, it’s measured in much smaller victories that probably wouldn’t mean much to anyone who isn’t living with a chronic illness.
Jennifer and I experience this differently because MS affects each of us differently.
As we say in each episode of our podcast: I’m walking. She’s rolling. But together, we’re moving forward.
Forever moving forward
I’m sure there will be plenty more football games this season when some running back stops behind the line of scrimmage and starts dancing around rather than taking the opening in front of him.
I’m equally sure Jennifer will hear me yelling at the television.
“Straight ahead!”
Thirteen years after writing those words, I realize they still capture something important about how I try to live with Multiple Sclerosis.
I can’t fake out MS. I can’t pretend it isn’t there. And I certainly can’t control every play it calls.
What I can do is face what’s in front of me, make the necessary adjustments, and keep moving. Maybe not always as quickly as I’d like. Maybe not always according to the original game plan.
But I’m still moving forward.
And together, Jennifer and I keep moving forward one step, one roll, and one story at a time.
Always straight ahead.