SUBTLE REVOLUTION
The New Yorker|July 24, 2023
In the treatment of M.S., small steps add up to a new approach to disease.
RIVKA GALCHEN
SUBTLE REVOLUTION

ANNALS OF MEDICINE

In 2014, Erin Storch looked in the mirror and felt as if she were drifting leftward. It was a feeling she didn’t know how to fully describe. She had been on maternity leave, and had recently returned to her job at a hospital consultancy in Washington, D.C. Storch had been promoted while on leave, so she was learning something new at work—and it seemed strangely difficult to absorb the information. She was also pumping milk three times a day. People suggested that what she was experiencing might be profound exhaustion; she disagreed. “I knew in my gut that the way I was feeling was not within the spectrum of what you would consider normal,” she said.

There were further unsettling sensations: “Coffee tasted like water. The left side of my body was weak and numb.” Storch went to see her ob-gyn, who sent her for a CT scan. Nothing unusual showed up.

Storch’s son was six months old when her symptoms manifested. When he was seven and a half months old, she walked down the stairs while holding him, and fell. Her son was O.K. “But then I knew that something was really wrong,” she said. She found a new doctor, who sat with her and her husband “for maybe forty minutes. It was just a conversation—there wasn’t even a physical exam. He said to me that he knew a lot of moms with demanding careers and that this was not that.” She started to cry from the relief of being believed. He scheduled an MRI for that evening. “But since there was some time to kill I decided, being me, to go to work,” she said. She crashed her car into a pole in a garage on M Street.

This story is from the July 24, 2023 edition of The New Yorker.

Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.

This story is from the July 24, 2023 edition of The New Yorker.

Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.

MORE STORIES FROM THE NEW YORKERView All
YULE RULES
The New Yorker

YULE RULES

“Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point.”

time-read
6 mins  |
November 18, 2024
COLLISION COURSE
The New Yorker

COLLISION COURSE

In Devika Rege’ first novel, India enters a troubling new era.

time-read
8 mins  |
November 18, 2024
NEW CHAPTER
The New Yorker

NEW CHAPTER

Is the twentieth-century novel a genre unto itself?

time-read
10+ mins  |
November 18, 2024
STUCK ON YOU
The New Yorker

STUCK ON YOU

Pain and pleasure at a tattoo convention.

time-read
10+ mins  |
November 18, 2024
HEAVY SNOW HAN KANG
The New Yorker

HEAVY SNOW HAN KANG

Kyungha-ya. That was the entirety of Inseon’s message: my name.

time-read
10+ mins  |
November 18, 2024
REPRISE
The New Yorker

REPRISE

Reckoning with Donald Trump's return to power.

time-read
10 mins  |
November 18, 2024
WHAT'S YOUR PARENTING-FAILURE STYLE?
The New Yorker

WHAT'S YOUR PARENTING-FAILURE STYLE?

Whether you’re horrifying your teen with nauseating sex-ed analogies or watching TikToks while your toddler eats a bagel from the subway floor, face it: you’re flailing in the vast chasm of your child’s relentless needs.

time-read
2 mins  |
November 18, 2024
COLOR INSTINCT
The New Yorker

COLOR INSTINCT

Jadé Fadojutimi, a British painter, sees the world through a prism.

time-read
10+ mins  |
November 18, 2024
THE FAMILY PLAN
The New Yorker

THE FAMILY PLAN

The pro-life movement’ new playbook.

time-read
10+ mins  |
November 18, 2024
President for Sale - A survey of today's political ads.
The New Yorker

President for Sale - A survey of today's political ads.

On a mid-October Sunday not long ago sun high, wind cool-I was in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, for a book festival, and I took a stroll. There were few people on the streets-like the population of a lot of capital cities, Harrisburg's swells on weekdays with lawyers and lobbyists and legislative staffers, and dwindles on the weekends. But, on the façades of small businesses and in the doorways of private homes, I could see evidence of political activity. Across from the sparkling Susquehanna River, there was a row of Democratic lawn signs: Malcolm Kenyatta for auditor general, Bob Casey for U.S. Senate, and, most important, in white letters atop a periwinkle not unlike that of the sky, Kamala Harris for President.

time-read
8 mins  |
November 11, 2024