I had to control my laughter. Last three months? Try last three days! The question was asked by a well-meaning admissions nurse at the hospital where I recently had the pleasure of an unexpected four-night stay. My condition wasn’t directly multiple sclerosis (MS)–related, but she read of my diagnosis in my chart and thought it worth asking. She was right to ask. Upon the confirmation that the floor and I meet regularly enough, I was adorned with a color-coded wristband. Yellow is “Falls Risk” in this hospital.

We ‘Fallers’ Were Accompanied on Every Stroll

For the remainder of my stay, every medical professional took extra, prescribed precautions when getting me from one test, exam, or procedure to the next. I felt like a suspected shoplifter browsing department store aisles with plain-clothed security on my flank the whole time. On a few occasions I saw another patient with the canary bracelet walking the halls accompanied by their own wingman (or wingwoman). I wish I could report that we gave each other knowing nods, like VW owners of my youth flashing their headlights to one another, but that would be a bit of romanticizing. The fact of the matter was that the other patients with the bracelets were quite a bit older than me and mightn’t have caught the cultural reference. And besides, they were concentrating on not falling.

I Liked Knowing the Hospital Staff Were Aware of My Needs

In a lot of ways, being visibly tagged was comforting. It was not unlike the way many people feel when they take up a walking aid for the first time. Suddenly the world sees what many have either missed or what we have experienced mostly as invisible symptoms. Having something that tells the world, “There’s something a little different here” isn’t always a bad thing. In this case, it was only hospital staff who copped the significance of my cautionary symbol, but knowing that they were aware, were acting proactively, and had training to manage potential situations was far more comforting than hiding the fact that my MS wouldn’t have minded me having conversation with the spotless, waxed floors.

Hiding Is Normal, but Showing Can Be Helpful

Sometimes we hide our illness as much as possible for a myriad of reasons. I do it myself whenever I can. In this case, however, I’ll admit that I didn’t mind others knowing of my potential issue, and it’s given me cause to think about letting people a ripple or two out in my circle know of my difficulties so they, as well as I, can be more prepared, more comfortable, and enjoy situations together more freely. People are always asking if they can help. By them simply knowing some of the difficulties I might incur, they might feel more contributory, I might feel more relaxed, and everyone may have a better time overall. Just a thought that I took away with me as they clipped my wristband and discharged me into the unknowing world. Wishing you and your family the best of health. Cheers, Trevis