After more than 33 years of living with multiple sclerosis, I’ve learned that managing this disease is a never-ending balancing act. MS slowly, almost imperceptibly, robs the body of its function year after year. But I refused early on to let pharmaceuticals define my treatment path. Instead, I made it my mission to truly understand MS and explore every possible way to manage it through knowledge, curiosity, and persistence.
Over the years, I’ve worked with dozens of passionate health professionals who opened my eyes to the many layers of this illness — from diet, stress, and exercise to inflammation, neuroplasticity, and the microbiome. These practitioners viewed chronic illness through a lens very different from my conventional neurologists, whose only recommended tools were drugs. I knew deep down that this single-track approach was not for me.
Now, at 65, I find myself straddling two worlds. Aging brings health issues that sometimes require the conventional medical system. But I still depend heavily on my “alternate” practitioners for the long game of chronic illness management. Unfortunately, these two systems rarely meet in the middle. Each side dismisses the other, and I’m left juggling both, trying to stitch together a coherent plan for my health in a medical landscape that feels deeply broken.
In my home province of Quebec, doctors are leaving, clinics are closing. Waiting lists stretch into years. Patients are discouraged and often feel invisible. In this chaos, I’ve realized something that’s both liberating and exhausting: the only person who’s truly going to help me… is me.
That doesn’t mean I do it alone. It means I’ve learned to seek out the right help — like the extraordinary naturopathic doctor I’ve been seeing this past year. She specializes in chronic conditions for three decades, has lived with MS for 40 years, and brings both expertise and empathy. Together, we’re rebuilding my microbiome and tackling cellular-level issues. Still, when acute problems arise, I have to pivot back to conventional doctors. It’s a continual dance between two systems that barely speak the same language.
But self-advocacy gives me purpose. Even when I get discouraged, that feeling doesn’t last long because taking charge — asking questions, researching options, and educating my own doctors — fuels me. Most practitioners aren’t trained to treat chronic illness through non-drug approaches like anti-inflammatory nutrition or stress management, but I’ve learned to start those conversations.
It’s not easy. It takes energy, time, and a great deal of patience. But it’s worth it. I’ve written about the emotional side of this journey in my book Cross Signals, because chronic illness doesn’t just wear down the body — it challenges every aspect of who we are.
To everyone walking this path: be curious. Be mindful of what you’re experiencing. And above all, have the courage to advocate for yourself. No one knows your body better than you do.