To Take a Chance or Play it Safe?

During my first multiple sclerosis attack, I packed up my office and cleaned up my files, unsure if I’d ever go back to work.

It sounds dramatic now, but in that moment life was about as frightening as a ride with Toonces the Driving Cat. In a matter of days, I had gone from feeling fine to being totally blind in one eye, unable to sleep through the night between the alternating sweats and chills, and walking with a hitch in my left leg. I was getting worse every day, and there was no guarantee it was ever going to stop.

It finally did on December 26, 2016, and I’ve been mostly stable since.

Life is different now, but I can get by just fine, with a few extra challenges. Nothing that seems
unmanageable. Unless it’s hot outside, that is, in which case I turn into jello.

Still, my instinct ever since has to go into survival mode, to hold on to my job as long as I could still bring in money, make no life changes or moves to rock the boat and ride out the storm as long as I can. Any goals of advancement, or my dream of getting in front on the Supreme Court got left behind. My toolbox was full with what I needed to battle MS and didn’t have room for the extra baggage.

That was then. But It’s funny how our experiences change us over time.

It sure has for me.

Let me explain.

I unintentionally lost some weight after my diagnosis.  Once my symptoms calmed down, I could run faster than I could before I had MS, even with the occasional hitch in my stride. When I set new personal records for a half marathon and a 5K last spring, I realized the rest of my life didn’t have to be spent in a slow and steady decline.

It gave me the confidence to take the California bar exam. Last summer I did that and I won a potentially tricky case by outlawyering the (jerkface) attorney on the other side. I survived the stress of my fourth successful bar exam-- the nation’s hardest-- while taking no time off work except the two days of the actual test.

Thousands of people pass the exam every year, so it doesn’t make me all that special, but it was nice to know I could still do things.

Which brings me to now.

There’s a job opening out there that might get me an onramp to that Supreme Court argument that I’ve always wanted. If I take it, it might turn out to be the latest chapter in my MS redemption story.

Or it might end in disaster.

I’ve read about nightmare stories where MS patients change jobs and immediately have an attack,
either due to the stress from a change in routine or just dumb luck. They become unable to work,
without leave to fall back on, and maybe even worse, without any goodwill built from their history with their new company to help accommodate the storm. In some cases, they end up leaving the work force.

That could be me. Making a change is risky.

My current job isn’t easy, but it’s relatively unstressful (most of the time) for a legal job, because I don’t have to deal with opposing counsels or appear in court all that often. I get to work from home twice a week, which is nice, because I am usually pretty wiped out by the time I get home on the days I don’t.

To chase what I’m missing, I’d have to give up a routine that is working. The other routine would require a longer commute, the stress of opposing counsels, and more hearings. I would like it, but it might burn out my candle faster. And it’s probably a pay cut, when God only knows (literally) how much longer I’ll be able to work at all.

Like I said, making a change is risky.

I don’t really like risks. But I also can’t imagine a world where living safely gets me to the dream I’ve had for 15 years. It occurs to me that not taking risks can be pretty costly too.

I haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet. Maybe I should be thankful for my current financial comfort and stability, and be grateful for what I have. Maybe that should be enough, and I should store up my dreaming for whatever energy I have left after hours and just get back to my other dream of writing that book. Maybe otherwise I’d miss a good thing given up in pursuit of a pipe dream that didn’t work out.

Maybe I won’t know what I have until it’s gone.

Or maybe I shouldn’t rely on old proverbs like that, because there’s one to justify every decision. One
says “better safe than sorry,” while another says “Carpe Diem.” For every “You only live once,” there’s “a bird in hand.” For every “live your dream,” there’s a “don’t push your luck.” We should reach for the stars, we should keep our feet on the ground. The grass isn’t always greener.

The English language has too many clichés.

I have no idea which one wins when they all conflict. Maybe I should make a list of as many of them as I can think of and choose based on which side has the most.

It’s a confusing moment, but it’s nice to feel well enough to potentially have the choice. That wasn’t a given, and I’m so incredibly thankful for every moment when I can do the things I used to take for
granted.

I hope the decision gets clearer as time goes on. And until then, for once again being well enough to
dream, I count my blessings.

And that’s a cliché I can get behind.