“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
BBC One - Panorama: Can You Stop My MS?
It's really hard to know how to respond to this programme - in a very real sense the stories seem so incredibly hopeful and positive, surely a cure can't be too far away now?