‘If I wasn’t in a good mood, nobody would want to be around me.’
When Eugene Givner, 63, was diagnosed as having multiple sclerosis, he became active in the MS group in his home town of Lorain, Ohio. After moving to California , he took classes at UCLA and became an MS peer counselor. His sense of humor brightened the days of patients in hospitals and nursing homes. Now he can’t make the rounds as he used to. His speech is strained and distorted, but his wit and desire to help others are still strong. He’s seeking a new way he can work with people.
I was diagnosed in 1958 as having multiple sclerosis. I thought the doctors must be wrong because I felt so good. I played golf. But, guess what, the doctors were right. At first I was very active, but then I fell a couple of times and broke some ribs and my wrist. I progressed from the cane to the walker to the wheelchair.
It took a few years for me to get acclimated. It was very difficult. But, when I realized that I wasn’t getting better, I had to make my choice. Do I want to lie in bed all of my life? I didn’t want to. I wanted to go, go, go.
I used to be a real estate broker, but I had to quit that. I got into numismatic. I bought and sold coins. I used to ride to the coin club meetings with my doctor in his sports car.
When I was diagnosed, we had been married nine years. I had a beautiful young wife and three babies. Now I have a beautiful wife and three adult children.
At the Veterans Administration Hospital in Sepulveda I run my electric wheelchair with my chin. When I moved in, I thought everyone was out of their minds. But there are interesting people there. One man owns a newspaper. There is a cartoonist and a general. I ran over the general’s foot one day with my wheelchair. I was warned to be careful. So I am very careful now. I go around like a big shot, like I own the place.
I’ve been at the VA for five years. October the seventh--that day is ingrained in my mind. That was a rough time in my home. It was not pleasant. I was not forced to go there. I made it my choice, and I’m not sorry. But I miss my wife very much, because I love my wife and children. My son lives in Santa Monica with his wife. He’s an attorney in Encino. My daughter is working on her master’s degree and lives in the Valley. The other daughter lives with her husband in Van Nuys. They all come to see me every week.
Many men at the hospital don’t have anyone coming to see if they are alive or dead. Compared to many of the other MS patients, I’m very fortunate, because I have a great support system, my family. Without my support system, I would be a vegetable.
I give away pins at the VA. It’s my pleasure. I gave the head nurse a pin that said, “I am the boss, that’s why.” I said, “I’ll give it to you if you’ll wear it.” And she did. It takes a lot of nerve to wear some of those pins. I gave one to a young man that said, “I gave up sex and drugs and it was the worst 20 minutes of my life.” I haven’t seen him wear it.
A pretty nurse came around to take a blood sample and I said, “You don’t look like Dracula.” My daughter asked me, “Daddy, why are you in such a good mood all the time?” I told her that, if I wasn’t in a good mood, nobody would want to be around me. I don’t want to be around people who aren’t in a good mood.
I used to go in to the nursing homes to visit the MS patients because the other peer counselors didn’t want to go. It was too depressing. Most were bedridden, and I felt so bad for them. They lay in bed with no one to talk to them. I made them laugh by telling them jokes, either clean or dirty, mostly clean. I see MS patients who are so much worse than I am, it’s hard for me. I think I might end up like that. It didn’t used to bother me when I first started visiting patients. With multiple sclerosis, I don’t know what condition I’ll be in tomorrow.
I would like to be some assistance to somebody. I don’t want to go to movies or lie in bed watching TV the rest of my life. I don’t want to dwell on what I can’t do, I want to know what I can do. What could I do? What could I do?
