When I was diagnosed with MS back in 2007, it somehow didn't come as a shock. I had grown up with MS in the family, my paternal grandfather (Farfar as we call it in Sweden), had MS for as long as I had lived. Coming out of the hospital with the word MS buzzing in my head, I thought a lot of my farfar.
His name was Folke and he was a metalworker spending his day by the lathe. He was the youngest of five siblings. His family came from a long line of agricultural laborers. He only spent a few years in school so his profession was really everything, and he was very good at what he did. He and my grandmother and my dad lived in a small detached house in a suburb of Stockholm with a huge garden, with lots and lots of fruit bushes and trees. I have many memories running around in that garden. My grandmother was the stereotypical Swedish grandmother, baked, cooked, knitted, crochet and looked after my granddad.