My thoughts are not empty and hollow atm..

I'm a little scared that I haven't had any sign that my vision may recover. What makes it worse is when I look on the internet and read all the stats about the recovery chances at this level of progression. I know.. that someday I'll probably be completely blind, since with each flare-up I manage to get optical neuritis, but I'm not ready for it yet. Please, don't let it be now. I'm so fearful that I'll never be able to see out of my left eye again and that I won't be able to drive.
Chrissey would say I worry too much, but I think in this matter, I have a right to worry. What can I do if I go blind? How depressed I would be if I could never gaze on beautiful works of art or some cinematic piece? I know it happens to people, but after 27 years of seeing, I don' think I could cope. It would more than likely mean flushing a lot of my dreams down the toilet. There's one dream I don't think I could ever give up though. I think, despite it all, even if I was blind and unable to function with my own limbs, I'd still try to go for my dream of being a disability lawyer. I want to help people like me. I want to help others inflicted with MS so that they may have the chance to live a better life than I ever could have! I want to make sure that these people are treated fairly in the workplace, unlike I was by certain higher ups that I won't mention here. No one should ever feel like they aren't good enough because they were born with a disease like MS.
I think the real problem lies in the fact that someone knows at least one person with MS. They then say, oh yeah, my Great Aunt Shirley had MS and lived a long, healthy life. Hunny, I'm not your Great Aunt Shirley. The thing with MS is it affects people differently. You can't group all MS sufferers into one large category and expect the definition to fit. It doesn't work like that. For me, I have to keep my immune system weak because the moment it gets too strong I know I'm in for a relapse. Therefore, I catch every germ you bring to the office. I catch every bug that goes around. I'm a connoisseur of sickness! Mention what's going around lately and more than likely I've had it, far worse than you will ever get it.
But, I don't think I'm jaded. Although, I will say, I do shrug it off a bit as if it were my lot in life that I have to face. But beneath that shrug, I'm terrified. Terrified of where I will be in five years, in ten years and if I'll make it another twenty years. I know that if I ever find myself stuck in a bed, using a respiratory to breathe and just existing I will not allow myself to continue that way. Never. I don't think that's anyway to live. That's one of the reasons I moved to Oregon is because I know it's a state that allows assisted suicide for those who are capable of doing it. I want to be able to have that option! The option of choosing to live my life how I want to, not how the government says I am to live.
I didn't mean to go into such a dark place with my thoughts, but this is what I think about when I'm given a moment alone. A moment of self reflection like I had so much of when I was on the road. Sure, I want to be like everyone else and have the freewill to do anything I want, but unfortunately, I'm not able to at the moment. The thought brings tears to my eyes that I'm so bound by this disease. When will I ever get my chance of freedom? I thought moving to Portland was my chance at discovering myself and my freewill but how quickly that all can change in a day or two.
Bah, perhaps I'm just being foolish or throwing my own pity party. It's not like I mean to, but this just happens to be the place where my mind wanders too. I also desperately want to wash my hair and take a shower, but with this IV in my arm, it's not the easiest of chores. Therefore, I'll stick with being scummy!
Scummily yours,
Desiree