Life can shift in an instant. I was at my doctor’s office when she handed me two pieces of paper. What does this mean? How could this happen? I’ve always been the picture of health, rarely even catching a cold. I have two young boys who depend on me. This can’t be happening.
Just two weeks prior, I returned from a fun-filled trip to Orlando with my four- and two-year-old sons. We always traveled together. The next morning, I woke up to find my right eye clouded. I rubbed it, hoping it would clear, convincing myself it was nothing serious as we began our day.
Three days later, the haze persisted. I finally confided in my husband about the issue with my eye. He insisted I see a doctor immediately, but I brushed it off, thinking it would resolve itself. The next day, after he asked again if it had improved and I said no, he made me schedule an appointment with an optometrist.
After a thorough examination, the optometrist found that while I had 20/20 vision, I was missing vision in the lower half of my right eye without any clear explanation. She mentioned the possibility of a tumor or stroke but didn’t see any signs of those. She referred me to an ophthalmologist.
The ophthalmologist dilated my eyes and conducted more tests but also found no clear cause for the vision loss. She ordered an MRI, and I felt my heart drop. An MRI? My severe claustrophobia made the thought unbearable.
Friends and family warned me about the potential seriousness of my condition, urging me to get a CT scan right away. The following day, I went to the emergency room. While waiting for the CT results, I asked the doctor if he had encountered a similar case before. He mentioned a young woman with the same symptoms who had a tumor. I fought back tears as anxiety filled my mind.
In the silent waiting room with my husband and cousin, countless thoughts raced through my head, but nothing was more important to me than my children. The doctor burst into the room with a smile, exclaiming, “You’re free to go, no tumor!”
Thank you, God! But what now? I still needed to do the MRI to uncover the issue.
I scheduled the MRI, shaking with anxiety during the car ride. Upon arrival, I was instructed to remove my jewelry and change into scrubs. As they placed me on the MRI machine, my heart raced and tears streamed down my face. They handed me a panic button for emergencies. After taking a deep breath, I went into the machine, only to be pulled back out. I wasn’t ready yet.
They fitted me with a helmet for the brain MRI, and as it closed over my head, I panicked and cried. There was no way I could endure this for two 45-minute sessions. My doctor prescribed anti-anxiety medication to help me through the next MRI.
Then came the agonizing wait for results. I spoke with my doctor, who reassured me that it was likely nothing serious. Later, in her office, my vision still foggy, she handed me two sheets of paper. In bold letters at the top, it read: MULTIPLE SCLEROSIS.
What does this mean? Is this a mistake? I asked my doctor to let my father in. He entered, saw my tears, and asked what was wrong. The doctor shared my diagnosis, and I couldn’t stop crying. We were all in shock.
“Will I regain my eyesight?” I asked. “Probably not,” my doctor replied. She arranged for me to see one of the top neurologists at Cedars-Sinai that same day.
On the drive home, thoughts of my children consumed me. I wanted to be there for them, to watch them grow. I knew very little about Multiple Sclerosis (MS), but it felt like a death sentence.
When I met the neurologist, I broke into tears again. “I have two small children who need me,” I told her. “You will be just fine,” she assured me calmly. She explained MS, the available treatments, and the next steps. “Will I get my eyesight back?” I asked. “Yes, you will,” she answered.
Returning home, I was greeted by family who had gathered to support me. Their love was overwhelming, but I needed some time alone to process everything.
In the following days, I stayed home, avoiding phone calls and simply reflecting on my circumstances with my children. The in-home steroids helped restore my vision, and further tests confirmed my diagnosis.
I began a monthly infusion called Tysabri, an immunosuppressive medication. The first treatment was nerve-wracking since one potential side effect is a rare brain infection linked to the John Cunningham virus (JC virus) that can be fatal.
It was a lot to digest all at once. I stopped searching for information about MS online as it only heightened my fears. As time passed, I began to adjust to my new reality. I started traveling with my boys again, learning that while many things are beyond my control, my response to them is what truly matters.
Almost two years later, I welcomed a healthy baby girl into the world. Life remains unpredictable, and the future with MS is uncertain. But for now, gazing at the joyful smiles on my children’s faces, I can say that life is good again.
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Summary: A mother experiences a sudden loss of vision, leading to a diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis. Despite her fears for her children’s future, she learns to adapt to her new reality, finding strength and support in her family.
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