JELLY BEANS AS A CURE FOR M.S., D. Sanderson

Jelly beans, red ones, preferably of the gourmet type.  Take four every
day.  I know it's worked for me.  My multiple sclerosis has been so
much after since I started this routine.  Of course the green ones
might work best for you but that's the kind of disease M.S. is.

Ever since I was told I probably, most likely, might, if I don't have
something else, have M.S. (I was told by a reliable source that two
diagnoses of "We're not sure but it's probably M.S." is equal to one
"I don't know but it must be M.S."), I have been told of at least
twenty five sure-fire cures for the disease.  Now before I insult too
many people, let me say that some of these may have merit, but most of
them sounded to me as weird as the jelly beans.  And after trying a few
of them, I have decided that jelly beans are more fun.

The problem of course is that M.S. is such a weird disease, subject to
remissions for seemingly no reason at all.  My symptoms improved
greatly after being in the hospital for a diagnostic workup.  The
doctors couldn't explain my recovery.  But I think it was due to the
herds of medical students, interns, and residents, all of them with
acne, who spent hours at the bottom of my bed looking at my bed and
discussing my Babinski response.  I never did figure out if I was
supposed to have one and didn't or had one and wasn't supposed to.
Well, anyway, every time they left my room, I felt better - which I
took as proof of their curative powers.  The cure didn't last however;
after I went home I got worse again.

Feeling that subjecting myself to young medical practitioners was a
severe form of treatment best left to a once-in-a-lifetime dose, I
started considering other treatments.  My first stop was the library.
Among the many diet books (it is true that if you, want to make it on
the best-seller list your best bet is a diet book) I chose two.  The
first advocated an allergy diet approach, I thought seriously about
this one.  However, I just knew that when my rotation diet got to
chocolate, I'd be in trouble.  So, I skipped it and went on to the low
fat theory.  It seems that chocolate was a sin here too, so I rejected
the diet approach in favor of less lifestyle-damaging therapies.

I heard on the news about a woman with M.S. who ran in a marathon.
"Exercise," she said, "made all the difference." I pulled my exercise
bike out of the garage and dusted it off.  It looked a little silly in
the living room next to the coffee table and rocking chair, but I
figured that esthetics were a small price to pay for a cure.  The
problem was that after several weeks of regular use, the most I could
manage was slow peddling (a far cry from a marathon) and if I pushed
myself past fifteen minutes at a snail's pace, my symptoms got worse
instead of better.  I still use the bike but I no longer expect a cure,
just slightly stronger muscles.

"I ordered it from the back of a magazine," a friend said of an energy-
producing necklace that interacted with the sun and the wearer's body
chemicals to produce an energetic feeling.  She insisted that I try
hers for an afternoon.  I didn't feel any difference, but in all
fairness, the instructions said not to expect to feel any difference
for at least two weeks.  I must admit I didn't order my own.  At
$19.95, I thought them a little overpriced.

In the age of metaphysics, I have had several suggestions from new-age
friends.  Perhaps I have some unresolved conflict that has caused my
M.S. I dismissed this possibility on the basis that psychotherapy was
even more expensive than the energy-producing necklace.  Or perhaps in
a past life I chose to have M.S. for the lessons it could teach me.  I
disliked this one the most.  There are easier ways to learn the lessons
of life, like watching a sad movie about someone else's disease.
Besides, how could I have been so dumb in a past life to choose M.S.
when I could have chosen an ingrown toenail?

My latest attempt has been naps.  First of all, I like naps and they do
seem to help.  I combine them with jelly beans and lots of humor. I
mean - it couldn't hurt, right?