FUMS.

That's my new mantra. I've realized that I've been too nice when it comes to MS. I haven't complained, and I haven't taken charge. MS doesn't play by the rules. It doesn't take turns, it cuts in line, and it will eat the last chocolate chip cookie on the plate.

In the early days of MS treatment, patients were expected to rest, to play the waiting game while MS stole what little vitality they had left. Now the advice is different - exercise and stay active if you want to still be active.

Somewhere along the line, I forgot how to fight. I forgot how to get angry enough to act. MS exploited that opportunity perfectly. While I was making nice, MS was helping me become an out of shape victim who falls regularly without a cane.

So I'm letting myself get angry. I'm encouraging myself to fight back. When I want to swear at this disease, I'll swear at this disease. And my new mantra can be summed up in 4 letters - FUMS. Sometimes, I'll even yell out what the F stands for.

Today is step one in the plan to take back my life. I've got an appointment with a physical therapist. My goal is to put together an exercise program that will help me get back in shape. I have MS, but if I'm taking an active role in getting myself in the best shape I can be, then I'll be better equipped to fight it.

You may have won the first set of this match, stupid disease, but look out for me now. I'm going for broke in this second set.