I was picking up a book that was on hold for me at the library. It was filed alphabetically on a shelf with a lot of other reserved books. Each had a slip of paper with the reserver’s name on it. I quickly found mine. But I was puzzled when I saw, after my name, the letters MS.
Had Big Brother advanced so far that the kind librarians tapped into my records at the neurologists’ office and they knew about my medical condition? And why on earth did they feel the need to broadcast that fact on this scrawny slip of paper?
Quickly, I came to my senses and realized that MS was merely there to distinguish me from a MR or a MISS or a MRS.
But by that time, my brain was already engaged.
I graduated from college with a Bachelor of Science in Mathematics/Computer Science. Granted, that particular degree nomenclature carries its own baggage. (I’m not BSing you!) But consider if I had stuck it out another year or two and earned a master’s degree.
And suppose my name was Maggie Simpson.
I could be Ms. Maggie Simpson, M.S., who has MS.
I’m just lucky I have MS and not diabetes, colitis, arthritis, heart disease, emphysema or any number of other chronic afflictions. What do those poor folks do for mental stimulation?
Hmm…For lunch maybe I’d like some alphabet soup.