Cheers and challenges: Navigating the World Series with NMOSD

The kitchen is humming with energy, my daughter has decked out our living room in a sea of blue and white, and the scent of homemade nachos wafts through the air. It’s October in Canada, and the Toronto Blue Jays are making a run for the World Series, the first time in 32 years.

I remember when we won the World Series back-to-back when I was a kid in the 1990s, and I’m thrilled to be enjoying this year’s series with my daughter. For me, it’s about more than just baseball. It’s a cherished tradition. It’s about spending time with my closest friends at the ballpark and sharing part of our North American culture with friends visiting from overseas.

The Blue Jays are the only Major League Baseball team in Canada, so this is a patriotic moment for us. As a result, the drinks are being freely poured, and the mornings are a little rough — except for me, as I’m drinking soda and quietly wishing I could partake in more. I’d like nothing more than to join in the toasts and to savor a cold, alcoholic beverage or a glass of wine with the people I love most. But my neuromyelitis optica spectrum disorder (NMOSD) is firmly in the way.

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Since my diagnosis, I’ve become a creature of habit, eating and drinking much of the same thing every day. It’s a way for me to have some control over my body since NMOSD decides what it wants to do every other moment of my life. Because of its unpredictable nature, which can include episodes of vision loss, numbness, and even temporary paralysis, I must remain vigilant about what I put into my body. Alcohol, even in moderation, can trigger my symptoms, interact poorly with my medication, and ultimately disrupt the delicate balance I strive to maintain.

So, while my friends reach for their favorite drinks and my family uncorks a bottle of Champagne, I find myself in the awkward position of refusing what has long been a symbol of celebration. It isn’t just about missing the taste, but rather the ritual, the shared experience, and the sense of belonging. In those moments, the difference between my world and their world feels as wide as the gap between home plate and the outfield wall.

Alcohol is woven into the fabric of sports culture, a thread that binds fans in celebration and commiseration. For many, a few glasses at a World Series party are harmless fun, but for me, it’s a line I cannot cross.

It used to be easy to downplay my abstinence. “I’m the designated driver tonight,” I could say. But that excuse doesn’t work if you’re hosting the party. I could say, “I’m pacing myself,” but eventually people would notice that I’ve been nursing the same drink all night. There’s nothing more uncomfortable than saying you don’t drink, because it can seem like you’re judging those who do. When people ask why I can’t just have one drink, it’s a real downer to have to bring up my poor health.

Despite the challenge, I’ve worked to redefine what celebration means for me. Instead of focusing on what I can’t have, I find other things to indulge in with my loved ones. I love a great cheese board, and we’re always baking something sweet and delicious. These new rituals have become synonymous with celebration in my home, and my friends and family still look forward to coming over.

Living with NMOSD has taught me resilience and acceptance. While I still grieve the loss of certain freedoms, I’m grateful for the understanding that gradually unfolds among my loved ones. With time, the questions fade and are replaced by gestures of inclusion, such as the baked goods that are brought over and the mocktails that we all get to enjoy, including the kids.

If there’s a lesson to be learned from this World Series season, it’s that the heart of celebration isn’t found in what fills our glasses, but rather in who fills our lives. I may not be able to join in every toast, but I’m still part of the cheering. I’m still a huge Blue Jays fan, surrounded by the people who matter most. They’re the ones who remind me that resilience is something to be celebrated, too.

Note: Neuromyelitis News is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health providers with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Neuromyelitis News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to neuromyelitis optica spectrum disorder.