As of today, it's been 21 years since my MS diagnosis.

TWENTY-ONE years! My disease can legally drink now.

Even though it was 21 years ago, I can remember that morning like it was yesterday. The doctor coming into my hospital room right around 7am:

Miss Roycraft, you have MS.

The taste of the tears rolling down my cheeks. The smell of the flowers everyone had sent me. The urgent feeling of I-need-to-call-my-dad.

All those sensations are so real to me even today. Twenty-one years ago, gulp!

Even though I was wheelchair-bound when he told me the news, I was sure I would walk and ride a bike again. It took a lot of therapy, a persistent cycling partner (Scott Anderson), and friends and a dad who would take me on "walks," which were very short and with a walker or leash of sorts.

But I did it. And I continue to do it all today. There are days where life is totally sucked out of them. Like a couple weeks ago. I literally got stuck upstairs for a good hour and a half in the morning because I knew my legs wouldn't get me down the stairs.

At least I got some reading done between my naps. I had really pushed myself hard over the weekend finishing a 40+ page paper and another 8-page paper and turning them in right before 2am on Monday. So the next day and the day after that, I pay for pushing myself.

This is not one of the positives to MS. I really wish for days like that not to ever happen ... and like to tell myself that they won't. But here I am — tired in my body and my brain with legs that are barely holding me up and the feeling of pins jabbing me in random parts of my body. Fun times.

For everyone who helped in my long recovery 21 years ago (you know who you are) or helps keep me strong and going today (you know who you are, too), I appreciate you so much.

Thank you! Love to you all.

Twenty-one years. Wow.