© Matthew Robbins

Maggie McPhersun stands in front of a canvas that she painted, a whimsical print of swirling lines and bright colors. Completing it, she says, was "incredibly painful emotionally." McPhersun, 51, is a registered nurse from Brunswick, Maine. She's also an artist, and she once took commissions, painting intricate portraits - before multiple sclerosis (MS) took away her ability to render faces in fine detail. Her latest painting is her first attempt at a looser style, more suitable for shaky hands and blurry vision.

Less than three years ago, a physician diagnosed MS in McPhersun, but the symptoms, she believes, started two decades ago. Exhaustion hit her often, and she grew depressed every summer. Periodically, she choked on pieces of food. Doctors diagnosed chronic fatigue or depression. Then, she began swaying, listing to the right as she walked. She became embarrassed to take strolls around Portland's Back Cove, which she once enjoyed. "I'd be nervous that I'd look like I was drunk," she says. Her doctor told her to stand on one leg to strengthen her muscles.

Then, the choking episodes struck more frequently. She noticed numbness in her feet. She insisted to her doctor that something wasn't right. He was dismissive and chalked up her symptoms to depression. "I'd leave his office and cry all the way home," she says.

Finally, McPhersun found a physician who listened to her concerns and sent her for tests. "The MRI showed spots," McPhersun says, "and then life changed." When she received the MS diagnosis, her first emotion was relief. "I'm not crazy, and this proves it," she says. "I wanted to go back to all the doctors I'd been to and stick my MRI in their faces." But as it sunk in, "it wasn't such a relief anymore."

Since her diagnosis, McPhersun has tried several drug treatments. She tried Copaxone (glatiramer acetate), but she developed skin lesions. She switched to Avonex (interferon beta-1a), but was ill with flu-like symptoms that lasted nearly a week. Recently, she started taking Tysabri (natalizumab), and she is crossing her fingers in hope that it will provide some relief, without the severe side effects.

Over the last two years, her eyesight deteriorated and muscle spasms increased. Although she worked as a nurse on call, counseling patients over the phone, it was exhausting and painful to sit at a desk all day. Many days, her thinking was muddled. Finally, she had to leave her job. Just negotiating the stairs in her three-level condominium turned grueling. Last spring, she moved into a single-story mobile home. "My home and my job," she says softly, "were the hardest things to lose."

Despite those losses, McPhersun allows that some good came from her diagnosis. She volunteers more and spends more time on her artwork. She recently bought a recumbent bicycle and hopes to participate in the National MS Society's Bike Tour next year. "MS slows you down," she says. "My time is more valuable than it used to be."