36 years of life with MG hasn’t stopped me from chasing adventure
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Anna Reid is seen preparing for another adventure. (Photos courtesy of Anna Reid)
In recognition of Myasthenia Gravis Awareness Month in June, the MG Awareness Month campaign features a series of stories highlighting the real-life experiences of people affected by MG, written in their own words. Follow us on Facebook, Instagram, or X for more stories like this, using the hashtag #MGAwarenessMonth, or read the full series.
A thymectomy scar runs across my chest. The marks of steroid-induced weight gain are etched into my body. Illness defines my past and shapes my future.
I was diagnosed with myasthenia gravis (MG) in 1990, when I was 15 years old. Since then, I’ve taken multiple medications and therapies, dealt with eye patches, slurred speech, walking aids, and a revolving door of physicians, infections, and side effects.
Reid stands on a rock formation in the City of Rocks Park in Idaho.
MG didn’t come alone. It was a launching pad for bronchitis, pneumonia, microscopic colitis [a form of inflammatory bowel disease], fertility challenges, low white blood counts, and elevated platelets.
In the 36 years since my diagnosis, I’ve lived roughly 12,000 days with active disease, and about 750 in remission. I’ve taken more than 40,000 pills. So many decisions — big and small — have been dictated by access to healthcare. I’ve fought insurance companies, billing departments, and pharmacies. Sick days turned into weeks. Life-altering symptoms stretched into years.
And through it all, I’ve been so, so tired.
MG stole my youth and much of my adulthood. Resentment isn’t hard to find; neither are disappointment or fear. But there is also gratitude.
Suffering from a severe chronic illness has been an unrelenting teacher — lessons in packing life with adventure. When MG held me down, I kept dreaming. And when it loosened its grip, I took action: skydiving in New Zealand, hiking in Vietnam, canyoneering in Switzerland. I rode a camel in the Australian Outback and took a submarine ride at the Great Barrier Reef. I drank Chianti in Tuscany, port in Porto, and Guinness in Ireland. I backpacked alpine tussocks, climbed sandstone cliffs, ran six half marathons, and taught spin classes. I lived in hostels abroad and in a van in the U.S. I met my husband on Rarotonga, a remote island. Our first date was going sea-kayaking in the South Pacific.
There were times all of this felt impossible. Was impossible. Times — long, desperate stretches — when I couldn’t lift my arms, when my vision doubled and my speech slurred. I couldn’t climb a single step, wash my hair, or drive. There were seasons when my dreams weren’t just difficult, they were laughable. Impractical. Impossible.
MG has shone a harsh light on my fragility. And still — day by day — I choose to keep chasing adventure. MG can stop me, and has. But it will not keep me from starting again, as many times as it takes.
