We're trying to move past our illness and be productive members of society, but society seems angry at us for looking normal. Like my ex-coworker, who used to accuse me of faking my MS-induced seizures to get out of work. Or my father, whom I have worked with for the last three years. He's watched me wriggling on the floor amidst an MS attack twice without doing anything to help. Part of him just didn't know what to do, but another reason why he just stood there was the gossip in the building about how my seizures were just exaggerated "dramatics" (in his defense, I am a huge theater junkie). Things are better between us now, and if I collapse in front of him, he's sure to call for an ambulance or rush me to the ER himself. Though, even that's not safe ground: You can roll up on the emergency room with handwritten notes from every doctor from Doom to House, and the ER staff still won't believe you have MS unless you look the part.
"MS, huh? Where's your helper monkey? Hit the bricks, pal."
Young, inexperienced nurses and doctors will sometimes have MS patients tested for fibromyalgia (aka the "uncertain shrug" disorder). Or, worse: They once tested my blood alcohol levels because they thought the MS-induced slurred speech and stuttering were from multiple shots instead of sclerosis.