I grew up knowing I was different.

We all are, in such fascinating and quirky ways. It is what new lovers spend nights whispering and giggling about over delivery in bed. Discovering the nooks and crannies of each others’ weirdly unique souls.

And then there are some things you spend your whole life thinking are totally average and normal. Like the buzz in my neck when I look down. Everyone has that right?

Turns out, uh, no. But who am I to complain or worry about a tiny little thing in my neck since I was 16 years old? For about forever I have felt this buzz – like someone is zapping me with a super low grade itty bitty stun gun. It doesn’t hurt; honestly I barely notice it. Just a small zing when I look down. No big deal.

The first time I ever met with the head of my neurology team, she sat me down to go over it all. What I have, how I feel, what is to come, what my treatment options would be, fears, hopes, exercise, smoking, and so on and so on. Everything and anything to do with Multiple Sclerosis.

And then, as she glanced and pointed at a digital image of my brain, she said it. “So how long have you had that buzz in your neck?” Easy breezy as if she had said “So your name is Tracy right?”

No freaking way. That was MS. Just creeping, behind the scenes the whole time, waiting to make her grand entrance and change my life.

Always there, making me unequivocally unique.