My first showing happened when I was freshly 20 years old at a New Year’s Eve party. Over the course of that day my vision was slowly blurring, but nothing that I was concerned enough about to miss out on the night’s festivities. About 2 hours into the party my vision was fully double. Because of my age, and the fact that everyone around me was also freshly 20, we laughed it off and blamed the alcohol. When I woke up the next day still seeing double, I finally let someone know. My mom immediately brought me to the hospital and within 24 hours I was admitted and given a full course of prednisone. Within 2 weeks I had a diagnosis. I recognize that this turning point, while traumatic, was exceedingly fortunate. I was able to start treatment immediately, preventing any permanent damage.
For the next 8 months, I would meet with and be disappointed by multiple neurologists, each with their own horror story prediction for what my life was going to look like. I was repeatedly told that I would absolutely walk with a limp, lose mobility, not be able to have children, and so many more assertions that ultimately proved resoundingly false. I spent months spiraling – I left college, stopped engaging with friends, and essentially acted as if my life had ended in that doctor’s office.
After losing hope and leaning into the anger, I finally found a doctor who saw me as a person, and not just another hopeless case. I truly believe that I would not be here without his intervention and belief in not just me, but my body and its ability to fight. Over the last 15 years, I’ve done just that. I won’t let this disease define me, and I will never let it dictate when I’m done. Life looks different, but my spirit is unwavering.