As a health reporter, my diary is full of awareness weeks for medical conditions which, every year, have seven days dedicated to their cause, writes Victoria Owen.

Next week is particularly poignant for me. It's Multiple Sclerosis week. My father, Nic, was diagnosed with the disease in 1970.

And, in an even more biting twist of fate, I was diagnosed with MS in 1994.

Even though we both have MS, that's the only common denominator. While he is resigned to sitting in a wheelchair, relying on my mother to help him 24 hours a day, I am working full time, routinely visiting the gym, and enjoy life to the full.

It's not surprising that our symptoms are completely different, because MS is not hereditary.

In fact, there is a one in a million chance that a parent and child are both struck down with the disorder that can leave its victims blind, wheelchair-bound or incontinent.

And in this case, I am the lucky one - for now. The trouble is there is no way of knowing how you will be affected - there is no guaranteed route mapped out. In fact, MS is a lottery and no-one knows how they will be hit. Between me and my 59-year-old dad, he drew the short straw.

Multiple Sclerosis affects the nervous system. Each human nerve sends electrical messages to muscles - just like a telephone wire sends similar messages to a handset.

The disease attacks the myolin sheath insulating the nerves. This sheath works in the same way as the plastic coating the telephone cord. Take it away and the electrical signals short all over the place - and the phone doesn't ring.

My first bout of illness was during my finals at University. A tingling sensation took hold of the right side of my body leaving me with no feeling whatsoever. It progressed to semi-paralysis and I was taken into hospital, where a lumbar puncture - drawing out spinal fluid - confirmed the diagnosis.

Peculiarly, I was not angry or bitter. My father was though, and - hit with remorse - felt it was his fault.

But I think it is partly because of him that I am still walking around like anyone else.

Having spent my life watching my father slowly progress from an active man into a disabled victim, I said from the start that I was glad it was me and not anyone else who suffered such a blow at 21. I would fight against my body and do things my dad didn't do - where he had succumbed to illness, I would ignore it.

Whether the mind over matter process has worked, I don't know, but I have been in remission for six years.

I know things could change, but I think I have the strength to deal with any problem. Ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you I'm a confident person who will battle head-on with any dilemma. But not everyone is so forceful and many people with MS need support.

Living with the disease is a very difficult process and I know two people whose partners have divorced them because of it. MS not only persecutes its prey, but the family around them. My younger sister was always conscious of our dad's illness throughout her childhood. And she still finds it hard to cope with him in public. Mum often struggles to get him into the car - it is easier to leave him at home, where he sits reading or watching television all day.

She had a small stroke herself last April, so even pushing him around is an impossibility.

It's easy to understand why a teenager, who is embarrassed by the most able-bodied parent, would find this hard to live with. Its even harder when most people don't even know what MS is. While cancer and heart disease are understood and recognisable, MS is a mystery. MS week is a good time to make people more aware. A cousin - who had never been told what was wrong with my father - often thought he was drunk. It was only when she asked why he drank so much that anybody realised that people didn't discuss my father's illness.

The remark - although innocent - left me feeling hurt. God knows how it affected my father. The Multiple Sclerosis Society is keen to spread awareness and understanding across the country. Through its work it could help both me and my dad. He could benefit from helplines, special nurses and home visitors - not available from the NHS he lives - to take some of the strain away from my mother. I could gain from expensive drugs if the charity successfully lobbies the Government to end the inconsistencies of health care in different regions. It would be nice to know that my life could be eased with a guaranteed prescription, should I get ill.

A more comforting thought is that the MS Society's commitment to £8m of research around the country is furthering more advances in the battle against the condition.

I hope MS Awareness Week helps raise funds, educates the public and comforts MS victims in the knowledge that they are not alone.

In the meantime, I'll carry on pushing my dad around.

Story date: Saturday 08 April

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.