Before multiple sclerosis entered her life, Mary Allen Keating—wife, mother, business owner, professional vocalist, theatrical performer, and athlete—moved through her days at full speed.

 

“I was definitely one of those people who burned the candle at both ends,” says Mary.

 

Her mornings began with a mental checklist before her feet ever hit the floor. School drop-offs for her two young daughters. Hours running their family-owned Rainbow Roller Rink with her husband, Jason. Evenings filled with roller derby practice, yoga, or rehearsal for singing and local theatrical performances.

 

Weekends were their own whirlwind, full of managing rink skating sessions, parties, and competitive events.

 

Her days were “packed to the gills,” she says. And she loved it.

 

Then her body began to betray her.

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Onset and Diagnosis

 

The first signs were subtle and easy to dismiss. “I was starting to lose my balance,” Mary recalls. On skates, movements that once felt instinctive, like basic crossovers, suddenly felt dangerous.

 

She blamed her hips, which had troubled her in the past. Or perhaps it was exhaustion from pushing too hard with her full schedule.

 

Then came sensations she couldn’t explain away—“like I was wearing compression socks when I wasn’t,” or arm cuffs that weren’t there at all.

 

When balance and sensation issues persisted, she went to her primary care physician.

 

Mary received her diagnosis on December 31, 2019.

 

She already suspected the outcome. After extensive testing, MS had become the likely answer. Her husband, Jason, sat beside her at the appointment.

 

And afterwards? In typical “we’ve got this” fashion, the couple celebrated the new year at a 1920s-themed New Year’s Eve party.

 

“At the time, I was determined not to let MS fears get in the way of the things that I could take part in,” she says. “I truly did not realize just how much my life was going to be changed because of this diagnosis.”

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The Impact of MS

 

Multiple sclerosis is a disease that doesn’t announce its full impact all at once. It unfolds. It advances. It diminishes abilities, slowly and relentlessly.

 

For Mary, the personal toll of MS is both physical and deeply emotional.

 

In the early days, “even small things, like taking the girls to school, or going to the grocery store, made me realize how grateful I was to still be able to do those things,” she says.

 

Now, six years after her diagnosis, Mary depends on an electric wheelchair for mobility and a voice amplifier to be heard. But she continues to contribute however she can, thanks to a strong support team of family, friends, and caregivers.

 

Husband Jason now shoulders the load of managing the household and business, and getting their growing girls to their ever-increasing list of activities.

 

“Luckily, Jason was always very involved with the girls, the rink, and our family life in general. Plus, he’s a wonderful cook!” says Mary.

 

The roller rink—the heart of their family’s livelihood—continues to operate because of a carefully built system. Jason, with trusted manager Kolbee Napiorski and a dedicated staff, maintains daily operations. Her sister Marci stepped in to manage finances. Mary remains involved in major decisions, still lending her expertise and voice.

 

“I am very grateful to still feel included,” she says, “and to be able to give my input and knowledge in the running of the family business.”

 

As an athlete and vocal performer, the loss has been harder to reconcile.

 

“I am traditionally a very optimistic person,” says Mary. Her athletic conditioning at the time of diagnosis enabled her to fight fiercely in the early years. Mary pushed herself and her therapists relentlessly through regimens that included aqua therapy and intense at-home workouts.

 

But around the five-year mark, both her physical strength and her voice were markedly affected. “It’s difficult to work so hard every day and to see no gain—only losses,” she says.

 

A “good day” is measured differently than it was just a few years ago.

 

“My mental acuity is always great,” she says with gratitude. Emotionally, good days feel hopeful and grounded. Physically, they are defined by moments many would overlook—being able to drive her electric wheelchair, lifting her right arm, and feeling relief from facial twitching or neck pain.

 

Bad days are harder to name. Fatigue. Spasms. Pain. The temptation to stay in bed longer than she should. “It’s difficult to be honest with myself on what a bad day looks like,” she admits.

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Living the Fight

 

When the weight of it all feels overwhelming, Mary’s main motivation is unwavering.

 

“I fight for my girls,” she says. “They are such a huge driving factor for me to stay motivated and continue to try to be more than what someone in my situation is expected to be.”

 

Mary’s fight is not only against the physical and emotional aspects of MS, but against the financial and systemic barriers that come with it.

 

She’s not currently on a disease-modifying therapy. Past medications devastated her health. A newer option recommended by her neurologist costs over $1,000 per month—unattainable without financial support.

 

“I feel that Western medicine has failed me,” she says candidly. “Doctors included.”

 

Instead, she has sought alternative and functional medicine treatments—ozone therapy, SOT therapy, hyperbaric chamber sessions, antibiotics for Lyme disease, stem cell therapy, and Ibogaine treatments. 

 

Many of these treatments are not FDA-approved. None are covered by insurance. All are expensive.

 

“I have had to search out these therapies on my own,” she says. “And I’ve come to them very late in my MS journey.”

 

This is where Team Mary comes into action.

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Reshaping the Battle

 

MS doesn’t just change one life—it reshapes entire families. “It’s a type of trauma,” Mary says. “Everyone has different symptoms, but they all deserve compassion and help wherever possible.”

 

Through Team Mary, she wants to explore the options that might lead to positive MS outcomes for herself and others. She wants her experience to reshape the battle against MS going forward.

 

What she asks for isn’t pity, and it’s not a handout. It’s something far more powerful—hope.

 

“And positivity and love,” she says. “That’s probably the easiest thing for people to give.”

 

Sometimes, that love looks like action—supporting access to nontraditional care, lifting the financial burden, and standing beside a woman who spent her life lifting others.

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Team Mary—The Fight Against MS Isn’t Just a Fundraiser.

It’s a Declaration.

 

• That Mary’s fight against MS matters.

• That her family deserves relief.

• That others facing MS deserve more hope—and answers—than the current system delivers.