Lisa Doggett

Stop calling me! I don't need another reminder to vote.

What? I have 28 NEW email? I just deleted everything like 15 minutes ago. Oh right – more pleas for money and volunteers.

So now you're texting me? I just donated 30 minutes ago, and now you want more? How about some gratitude?

These are all election-related thoughts I've had over the last few weeks.

But even though I'm irritated, I am relieved that others are so dedicated to keep calling/texting/stopping by/emailing.  It feeds my underlying guilt that I need to do more, more, more, but each interruption is still a little bit of hope.

My overwhelming stress/concern/frustration is that we are so close in Texas – and many other parts of the country – to making change happen in a big way next week. But we can only do that if people vote. I'm worried they won't. I'm worried they will be too disconnected, disengaged, cynical, hopeless, angry, and disempowered.  I hope I'm wrong.

I am from a political family – VERY political. My dad was elected to the Texas State Senate when I was 11 days old. He has spent his entire career in public service; I have spent my entire life supporting that career. We didn't go to baseball games or on camping trips when I was a kid. Instead, I rode with my dad in parades, went to fish fries and barbeques, shook hands at fundraisers, and smiled through long speeches. My dad is running for Congress again now, and I couldn't be more proud of his incredible tenure in the U.S. House. Elections are a very big deal for my family – our Super Bowl, our Academy Awards, but with much more at stake than a game or awards ceremony.

Now I also look at this election from the perspective of a patient. And the "elections don't matter" argument, espoused by many non-voters, now makes me madder than ever. Those of us with chronic disease are especially vulnerable to the whims of our leaders and special interests – the big pharmaceutical companies, the health insurers. In the next couple of years, decisions by those leaders could matter A LOT to people like me:

· They could make it hard or impossible for those of us with preexisting conditions to get health insurance.

· They could rein in the cost of prescription drugs, or they could continue to let them go unchecked. (Drug costs for MS routinely surpass the $60,000 mark per patient per year!) 

· They could restrict or allow access to certain medications that help people with MS.

· They could require reasonable quality standards for health insurance plans or allow junk plans to be sold.

Other issues are at stake too, like global warming – and our government's terrifying refusal to adequately recognize and address it. The consequences of climate change will soon touch nearly every living thing on this planet. I am not exaggerating or fear-mongering; we are on the brink of a point-of-no-return disaster with our climate. 

Public education, immigration, gun violence, workers' rights, poverty, the racial divide – these only scratch the surface of the issues that will be impacted by the outcome of this election.

Yesterday, I was honored to join a group from Worker's Defense in South Austin to block walk, urging everyone to get to the polls. This time I was the one interrupting people from their Saturday morning routines, annoying some and hopefully motivating others. On Election Day, November 6, I'll make phone calls to remind folks to get to the polls. This election is critically important for me, for my kids, for our community, and for everyone.

Please share what you're doing to help get out the vote and to support your chosen candidates during the next week. For more info and voting resources, check out VOTE411 or any number of other online resources.

And if someone knocks on your door to ask for your vote or remind you to cast your ballot, be friendly, and thank them for stopping by.

"I don't know ANYONE with MS." That's what I thought, soon after learning about my own diagnosis, almost nine years ago. Even as a doctor, I had only seen two or three patients over the years with MS, and our contact was brief. My diagnosis seemed so random, so rare.

A diagnosis with MS, like many other chronic diseases, can feel devastating – and very, very lonely. Yet one of the early surprises that I discovered soon after my diagnosis is that MS is COMMON. New estimates suggest that nearly one million people in the U.S. may have MS.

We, the MS Warriors, are out there!

Why do we seem scarce? Because signs and symptoms of MS are widely variable and often invisible. I have intermittent dizziness, leg numbness, and cloudy vision, but no one can tell. I try to ignore my symptoms; I still work and go grocery shopping and run and argue with my kids.

But connecting with others, finding my tribe of fellow Warriors, has been a gift, especially at the time of my diagnosis, and again over the last several months.

After I shared my news with others, soon after my diagnosis, suddenly I was surrounded by fellow MSers: a friend of a friend, the mother of one of my daughter's classmates, a colleague, a nurse at the hospital where my husband Don works, even one of the doctors who helped provide my early medical care. Their generosity, as they shared their stories and offered encouragement, lifted my spirits during one of the darkest times of my life.

The BP MS150 bike ride in April, the National MS Society's (NMSS) Texas Legislative Day last month, and the MuckFest MS in Dallas last weekend brought me back together with MS advocates, and even more importantly, with my fellow MS Warriors - that unique group who can rattle off names of the disease-modifying drugs for MS (Copaxone-Rebif-Gilenya-Tysabri-Ocrevus…), share stories of our initial diagnoses which often start with "I thought I had a brain tumor…," and offer inspiration and support from a place of profound understanding.

We are out there, and we are strong.

If you are facing a new diagnosis of MS – or any chronic disease – I urge you to reach out to others with your condition. For those with MS, the NMSS is a valuable resource, providing support services and learning sessions across the country. Those with other chronic diseases can usually find support through similar organizations (American Diabetes Association, Arthritis Foundation, Alzheimer's Association, etc.) On-line communities can provide support as well, as I've learned through writing for Quora and connections on Facebook and Twitter. I've also been inspired by fellow MS bloggers.

Connecting with others is a way to share the burden of a chronic illness – and also to share hope.