It was only the beginning

If you were to ask, “What made you take note of these moments from years ago?”, I wouldn’t be able to answer. As the changes I was experiencing were new and unfamiliar, I guess subconsciously, I knew that I couldn’t forget.

I decided to meet my younger self for a coffee, I felt she could use the chat.

I got to the cafe five minutes early, I’m still punctual. I went to get a table inside as I wasn’t doing too well; it was warm outside. Not to my surprise, she was at the cafe too. She was also punctual. She chose inside anyway — she noticed she was starting to feel overwhelmed by the heat. I told her she made the right choice and to always go with her gut, it would always point her in the right direction, even it’s a decision as easy as where to sit for a coffee. She ordered a full-cream latte with a ham and cheese croissant. I had already eaten a freshly made meal at home and given the time, ordered a decaf oat milk latte.

She had her LV handbag with skinny leg Levi’s and a BONDS tee. She was wearing wedges. I had a different LV handbag with skinny leg Levi’s and a BONDS tee. I was wearing the lightest shoes I’d ever owned because they made walking easier; white Jackie IVs. She began by telling me about her apartment and how she saved up for the deposit by herself. I smiled. She always achieved what she wanted to and backed herself all the way. She then moved on to tell me about her work trip to London. It was March 2019. She had a great time working out of the Brighton office followed by her week of annual leave in Soho. She then started opening up about a change she’d been noticing for over a year now, if not more - the trouble she was having going down stairs and it became really obvious in London as most of the Tube stations had stairs. She told me she still got to where she had to go but it was harder and took longer than Google Maps said. She had to hold on to the handrail and watch her every step. I told her, always do whatever makes you feel safe and stable — I knew she’d end up with a handrail in her shower in the future. She missed going to the V&A Museum — getting there proved to be a bit tricky. Whilst the path was straight and even, it was on a downward slope and her legs didn’t feel like they could hold up. I simply nodded — I still haven’t mastered going down slopes.

Then she recalled something else that happened. She checked photos on her phone, they were dated December 2017. She went to the dressmakers for a bridesmaid dress fitting for her sister’s wedding but when she went to put the shoes on, shoes she had chosen for all the bridesmaids, she felt incredibly unsteady — her legs started shaking uncontrollably and whilst she remained stoic in front of her mum and sisters who were also there, on the inside she was so puzzled. This would be among the first of many moments she’d mentally remember about her legs starting to feel “different”.

I noticed she was rubbing the side of her right thigh a lot. I asked her about this. She said she felt sharp, constant pain there that wouldn’t let up and massaging it out made it feel better. She said she’d look into physio and dry needling. I told her that would only be a temporary fix but it wouldn’t be the answer and to never stop until she got an answer. She asked if all that she had been noticing happening to her legs would mean something serious. I was sitting opposite her knowing that before 2019 ended, she’d receive a multiple sclerosis diagnosis. I told her it would be serious and that she’d face so many challenges and changes but to always remain headstrong and happy. She gave me the “I got this” look.

She looked at the time. She had to go. She was meeting an old friend; they were heading to IKEA. I smiled. I knew how helpful this friend would be to her future. Before leaving, she said she was starting to feel pain in her lower leg. I looked at the time. It had been about three hours since she had her coffee and meal. I told her to give oat milk a try with her coffee next time and to watch out for dairy. I knew it would be the first food group she’d give up. Dairy would bring on MS symptoms in such an awful way. I also told her to be mindful of what she eats. I knew her diet would change drastically but I also knew there was no one better equipped to deal and get on with it like her.

We hugged goodbye and I felt happy as she left — I was looking at a strong, confident, smart young lady who had set herself up nicely and I knew no one was better placed to handle the news she’d soon receive.

It was only the beginning.