After an annual visit with the MS Clinic in 91原创 my neurologist told me there are no new lesions on my brain or spine – good news. But, the MS and disability are progressing. I left and eventually reached my hotel. I placed my walking poles aside, removed my backpack, and noticed water dripping on the floor and on my shoes. The bottom of the pack was all wet. I shook a fist at the ceiling, “Why can't I get a break?” I dropped it to the floor, opened it, and saw the water bottle was now half empty. The lid had come loose. I took out the damp neurologist reports and scrambled towards the bathroom as fast as my MS-ified legs could carry me. Pulled the blow dryer off the mount near the sink and blasted the papers dry. I returned to where the backpack lay, and slumped onto a chair at the foot of the bed. “Why are you doing this to me?” I began to cry about the dreams I once had…now gone. Nope. I sobbed. One of those wide-mouthed sobs. “Where’s hope, Allah?”
I wiped my eyes, headed into the lounge’s library and scanned the many books. I found Rick Hansen’s Man in Motion! I recalled when I was a young teen and saw him wheel through my hometown of Golden, B.C. I never imagined, decades later, that I’d be disabled searching for hope in his book. Irrespective of how tired or sick Hansen was, he persevered in a wheelchair to raise awareness of the potential of people with disabilities, and funds for spinal cord research and rehabilitation. Hansen was motivated by his disability and his purpose. At times, I still struggle with hope when Canada continues to have one of the world’s highest MS rates, there’s still no cure, and there are hidden costs with medications, mobility devices, accessible homes, cars, etc., that are either partially covered or not covered at all by insurances, governments or our “sick care” systems (aka healthcare).
So where’s my hope? After reading Hansen’s book, I googled hope and Islam and found the word Tawakkul – an Islamic principle that means to trust in the Divine’s plan. The trust of the believers is simply living one day at a time and not worrying what tomorrow will bring. I recall once being asked how MS has changed me in terms of faith. Although having MS means dealing with change every day; what remains constant are my belief in Allah, the prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), my being Muslim, the Qur’an and prayer. My faith has grown stronger because of MS.
I went back to the bedroom. Tightened the lid of that half-full water bottle, prayed in what ever way I could and held space for hope, gratitude, and tears. Upon returning to Victoria I reconvened routines. Then, it hit me. Hope is also at – the only gym in Victoria that has a specialized adapted fitness centre and equipment for people with varying physical abilities. My gym mates move forward every day based on their capabilities no matter their circumstances. I also read about Susan Simmons who swam the Juan de Fuca Straight to support the MS community. This resulted in the creation of the . I have learned no matter the circumstances when one has a strong sense of purpose, one does not give up. It’s about how we show up. My source of hope, gratitude, strength and purpose is from my faith.
Meharoona Ghani, MA, former Artist in Residence at University of Victoria’s Centre for Studies on Religion and Society; a Diversity Specialist; and a writer published in many collections. She is currently writing her creative non-fiction book called Letters to Rumi – her journey of belonging. Learn more at: . Meharoona is grateful to be welcomed to live on the unceded territories of the l蓹k虛史蓹艐蓹n, Songhees, Esquimalt and W瘫SÁNE膯 peoples.
You can read more articles on our interfaith blog, Spiritually Speaking, at /blogs/spiritually-speaking
* This article was published in the print edition of the Times 91原创 on Saturday, Novermber 23rd 2024
