Finding humor in the absurdity of MG helps me manage stress
Even in the strangest twists of fate, there is still room for perspective
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We are told that stress, inadequate sleep, poor eating habits, and the lack of an effective medication protocol can contribute to flare-ups of myasthenia gravis (MG). Sleep, at least in theory, is manageable. We can adjust routines, sneak in naps, and pretend that going to bed at 9:30 p.m. is a bold lifestyle choice rather than a medical necessity. Diet? Same thing. We can improve it, one reluctantly consumed vegetable at a time. Medications? With the help of a good neurologist, we experiment, adjust, and hope for the best.
But stress is another kettle of fish entirely.
Life, by its very nature, is stressful. In fact, a certain amount of stress is not just normal; it’s beneficial. Hans Selye, often called the father of stress research, is often credited with the saying, “Man should not try to avoid stress any more than he would shun food, love, or exercise.” Those little bursts of adrenaline, our ancient fight-or-flight response, once helped our ancestors outrun predators. Today, they mostly help us find our car keys when we’re already late.
Of course, modern stress has a way of overstaying its welcome, which is why I’ve always appreciated the wry wisdom of actress Lily Tomlin and her writing partner, Jane Wagner: “For fast-acting relief, try slowing down.” That may be the most impractical and accurate medical advice ever given.
Consider some of the “ordinary” stresses of daily life. Financial pressures such as bills, groceries, and the weekly tank of gas now require a small loan. Relationships, because even the people we love most have a remarkable ability to test our patience, add the odd dose of stress. Then there is the stress of the ticking clock. There are never enough hours in the day, and somehow we’re always behind.
Now, if you’re living with MG, you don’t just carry these stresses — you stack the condition on top of them. That includes fatigue, uncertainty, medication side effects, and the ever-present question: “Is today going to be a good day or a bad one?” It’s not just stress, it’s stress with a sequel.
This is where humor becomes less of a luxury and more of a necessity. Laughter, even the slightly forced kind, has a way of loosening the grip of anxiety. It doesn’t eliminate stress, but it shrinks it down to a more manageable size. It’s like putting a giant problem into a very small, slightly ridiculous box.
Which brings me to my recent deep dive into the relationship, or lack thereof, between genetics and MG.
A bizarre twist of fate
My father had MG. That fact alone sent me down a rabbit hole of research, armed with curiosity and, admittedly, a touch of suspicion. Was this something passed down? Was I, in some cosmic sense, “destined” to have it? My neurologist offered a wonderfully precise and slightly maddening answer. “MG isn’t hereditary, but it does run in families.”
That statement turns out to be well supported. A Muscular Dystrophy Association fact sheet notes, “MG is not inherited, and it is not contagious. Although MG is not hereditary, genetic susceptibility appears to play a role in it. Occasionally, the disease may occur in more than one member of the same family.” In other words, it’s not inherited, except when, apparently, it is.
Now here’s where things get interesting and a bit absurd. According to MedlinePlus, about 3%-5% of people with the condition have a family member with either MG or another autoimmune disorder. With MG affecting about 20 in 100,000 people worldwide, that would mean fewer than 10 per million people have familial MG. Not quite “one in a million,” but close.
Most people hear “one in a million” and think of hitting the lottery, becoming a rock star, or discovering buried treasure in the backyard. I, apparently, hit the other kind. No yacht. No private island. No endorsement deals. Just the same rare autoimmune disease my dad had.
If you can’t laugh at that, you’re missing an opportunity. Because humor, in moments like this, doesn’t trivialize the struggle; it reframes it. It reminds us that even in the strangest twists of fate, there is still room for perspective. And perspective matters.
Because the truth is, for all the statistical oddities, for all the challenges MG brings, I am, by any reasonable standard, extraordinarily fortunate. I have good friends, a loving family, and a career that gave my life purpose and meaning. I am well-fed, well-housed, and surrounded by people who care about me.
So yes, I may be nearly one in a million, but not in the way I would have chosen. Still, I’ll take it. And on the days when stress creeps in, when the weight of it all feels just a bit too heavy, I’ll try to remember that sometimes the best response isn’t to fight harder — it’s to laugh, shake your head at the absurdity of it all, and keep going anyway.
Note: Myasthenia Gravis 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 provider 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 Myasthenia Gravis News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to myasthenia gravis.
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