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By Connie Brichford, Everyday Health It’s more important than ever to be aware of the warning signs of multiple sclerosis, a chronic and often disabling autoimmune disease. While more than 400,000 pe...
A few days before I was to fly back to Canada a small ad in one of the morning newspapers caught my eye. The words Multiple Sclerosis Society of Chennai jumped out at me. Apparently there was a local chapter and it was throwing a fundraiser. The ad took me by surprise. There were others like me dealing with the disease. And they lived in a vitamin D rich country like India. Everything I had read about MS suggested it was a chronic condition which is much more pervasive in temperate climates like Canada, the U.S., Scotland, England
I was 33 years old and working the local news beat with the CBC's supper hour news cast when the universe hurled a wicked curve ball my way. On the Tuesday morning after the Canada Day holiday, I tripped and fell in the newsroom, scraping my knee. Forty-eight hours later I was admitted to Emergency in a Toronto hospital. And I learned that something was terribly wrong with my health. In the days and weeks following my diagnosis non-white friends, even my childhood pediatrician who was Indo-Canadian, wondered how it was I'd come down with what many considered to be a "White Man's Disease." By the end of the summer the initial diagnosis was confirmed by the neurologist who would become my MS doctor at St. Michael's Hospital.