My name is Jessica. I’m Corie’s sister. I am 2 years older
than her, but she has taken care of me most of my adult life. Even before she
knew she had MS, she was clumsy and prone to moments of forgetting. She was
able to play it off, though.
When she had her son, she was an amazing mom. He was on a
great diet, learned at an amazing rate. She recorded him every day.
Corie managed a website for our crafting business and made
most of our products better than any of us. She has always been a perfectionist.
Over time, she has lost sensation in most of her lower body,
as well as her hand-eye coordination. I have to check her feet regularly, as
she cannot do it herself, to make sure she doesn’t have any sores. I help her
with her son, as she has trouble waking up in the morning. I also have to make
sure that he doesn’t take advantage of her.
She has MS that is going untreated. Most people, at her
stage, wouldn’t be moving. With all of her problems, even her doctors are
amazed she can still move. In my opinion, based on the fact that she shouldn’t
even be able to move, even her bad days are a miracle. She’s an amazing and
strong woman.
That doesn’t make her condition easier to watch. Actually,
that makes it harder. I want her to see how amazing she is, but she doesn’t
feel amazing. It is difficult to see the emotional pain she is in. She thinks
she’s a loser. She cannot see just how much strength she uses every day.
Instead, I watch her cry and hate herself because she cannot
do the things she used to be able to do. She cannot play games like she used to
or crochet like she used to. Her biggest problem is that she cannot do all of
the special projects, theme parks, and holiday pictures that she always did for
her son and family.
Some days, she can barely move and needs help even going to
the bathroom. Other days, she can do it all and takes advantage of it by doing
projects with her son. He absolutely loves it. He knows his mother loves him,
even at 7 years old. He acts like a child, but he is also growing up faster than
most in this generation. I do not think that is a bad thing. He can actually
handle the same responsibilities that my 11-year-old daughter can do. He can
clean his own dishes, make his own food, wipe up his messes, and even helps
with the laundry and sweeping.
Through it all, I am my sister’s body, and she is my brain.
She does all of the things that my mind cannot, while I do all of the things
that her body struggles with. Every day is different for her. Each day, she
helps me to be able to do more and more on my own and I use that to be there
for her more and more. She is my world.
