this is how i roll


Adjusting to life with a disability can be difficult because most people tend to take their health for granted… until it’s gone!
It is easy to focus on what you have lost, but you can’t go back and change the past, nor should you spend your time wishing away your limits; you can change how you think about your disability and choose ways to build a meaningful life!

a little about me…

  • 1958 – Born Falkirk, Scotland
  • 1968 – Survived Carbon Monoxide poisoning
  • 1983 – Survived car crash (near-fatal)
  • 1990 – Survived car crash
  • 2008 – Survived massive heart attack (near fatal)
  • 2012 – Diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis (Primary Progressive) PPMS
  • 2015 – Diagnosed with Diabetes


Life has a way of throwing us the odd curveball … moments we never planned for, never invited, and often cannot control. These events can disrupt routines, challenge our assumptions, and force us to adapt faster than feels acceptable. We can meet disruption with resilience, curiosity, or calm defiance. We can rebuild, rethink, or simply breathe until the storm passes, but our values, our objectives, and our direction become our anchor when everything else shifts!

What people miss about MS

There is a lot that people do not understand about multiple sclerosis.
If we do not live with it ourselves, it is hard to picture what it feels like.
Even so, we deserve a clear view of daily life with MS.
That is how we start to understand the strain, the limits, and the hidden cost.

MS is real, it hurts, and it brings daily challenges that do not let up.
Most people do not see it, because the damage happens inside the body.
We may still walk, talk, or get through the day in a wheelchair, yet that does not mean we are well.
If only people could see the chaos that sits beneath the surface.

The smile does not tell the full story

We may smile most of the time, and that can fool other people.
A smile does not erase the illness, it only shows that we are trying to cope.
Under that calm surface, we may feel angry, frightened, tearful, and worn down.
We also carry the fear that our future may look very different from today.

Primary progressive MS (PPMS) is a condition that gets worse over time, so our bodies change little by little.
One day may feel manageable, then the next day can be much harder.
That shift may happen slowly, or it may catch us off guard.
Either way, our lives change day by day, even when other people cannot see it.

We still get a say

It hurts when people decide what is best for us without asking.
MS affects every part of life, but it does not take away our judgement.
We should not be left out because someone thinks an activity will be too much for us.

Give us the choice, then let us decide whether we can manage it or not.

Being excluded hurts more than being invited and saying “no thank you”.
We would rather have the option than be treated as if we cannot speak for ourselves.
Keep inviting us, even if we turn things down many times.
Those repeated offers tell us that we still matter and that we still belong.

i know how you feel

When someone says they know how we feel, it can sound dismissive.
They do not know the fatigue that never leaves, the numbness, the pain, or the bladder problems.
They do not live with brain and spinal cord damage that keeps causing new problems.
So comparing MS to a bad cold or a brief flu spell misses the point.

Support is welcome, but false understanding is not.
We can offer comfort, patience, and practical help without pretending to live their life.
That kind of honesty matters far more than a neat but empty comparison.
It shows respect for what people face each day.

We are not broken

We may also hear people trying to fix us as if we are broken.
We are not broken, we are living with a chronic, incurable disease.
That means the condition does not go away unless a real cure is found.
At the moment, there is no cure, only ways to manage symptoms.

The supposed cures we see online are not cures at all.
Some are symptom-management ideas, some are wishful thinking, and some are just money-making tricks.
Our neighbour’s friend’s aunt, who claimed to be cured with bumblebees, tin foil, and baking soda is not a reliable source.
We need care, understanding, and proper medical advice, not strange recipes.

Stop asking the same thing every time

We may keep hearing, “Are we feeling better?”, every time people see us.
That question has no simple answer when MS keeps changing the picture.
Better than what, and at what point in time?
Yesterday, last week, or a year ago?

It helps more when people treat us like whole people, not a diagnosis.
There is more to talk about than MS, and there should be room for that.
We still care about ordinary life, whether that means gardening, travelling, architecture, or films.
We do not need the illness erased, but we do not want it to be the only subject either.

Bad days are part of the disease

We have bad days, and sometimes truly awful ones.
Getting out does not always improve them, and it can make things worse.
Doing more does not make the symptoms disappear, because MS does not work that way.
Exercise matters, but it has to be paced carefully and planned well.

The old “no pain, no gain” saying does not fit this illness.
If we reach the point of pain, we may have pushed too far.
Our bodies can rebel for days or even weeks after that.
That is why advice about simply getting out more or losing weight can do harm.

We are still us

Before MS, we were still ourselves, and that has not changed.
We are intelligent, caring, fun, loving, and able to laugh with people.
We can also feel angry, moody, and frustrated because we are human.
All of that belongs to us, MS included.

We may wish for a cure more than anyone else, yet that cure does not exist today.
So we do not want other people to reduce us to a disability label.
We need more love, support, care, and understanding than most people realise.
We would rather have someone walking beside us than standing in our way.