God gifted me with good eyesight.

I refuse to let multiple sclerosis take it away.

Lisa A. McCombs
3 min readMay 26


Photo by David Travis on Unsplash

Have you ever thought about what it would be like to lose one of your six senses?

I remember pretending to be blind as a class exercise in trust and spatial orientation. We chose a partner to lead us around a room, both physically and with verbal instruction. The goal was twofold. We needed to be mindful of our physical surroundings while learning to trust our partners. The first task proved helpful to me. The second not so much. Seventh graders are not the most reliable colleagues given a chance to get a laugh.

That lesson has stuck with me for years.

Sight is the one sense I do not want to lose. Books are my one and constant passion. I know there are audio books but I don’t like being read to. I could learn Braille, but it isn’t at the top of my priorities.

I love books.

I love landscape.

I just love the view.

I’m confident I would and could learn to exist without my eyes, but the horror of that reality is devastating.

One of the first people I met with multiple sclerosis after my diagnosis relayed the nightmarish moments of her own early days of living with the MonSter. She went blind for nearly two weeks.

When her vision returned, there was never a recurring episode. Many Warriors aren't that lucky.

The possibility of going blind terrifies me.

I started wearing corrective eyeglasses at the age of fourteen. I didn’t know I needed them until donning my first pair of glasses and realizing that trees held individual leaves. Both my parents wore glasses, as well as one of my younger brothers. It wasn’t a big deal.

Since the MonSter is entertained by attacking the optic nerve, it has become a big deal. I fight mobility issues daily, but so far have maintained my vision. It changes often, forcing me to rotate my collection of reading glasses and night vision is an increasing challenge, but the ol’ peepers still function.

I don’t know what I would do without my eyes.

Lisa, Lady With the Cane



Lisa A. McCombs