It's been 11 years since that day. Eleven. (forgive my obsession with sort-of-pointless anniversaries.I don't consider this one to be that,though.)
Eleven years since my mom and I got in a car,in the early predawn hours,for the hour ride to the hospital.We were late,because my mom got a ticket for cutting between the sides of the interstate on the emergency access road. I guess blindness wasn't an emergency to the State Highway patrol.
I was epically high that morning(370) but none of that mattered.All that mattered,was that I couldn't see anything.The world was a 20/400 blur.On the way to the OR,I tripped,banged,and felt my way behind the orderly. And then fell,to the mortification of any modesty I had left. Entire body exposition,as my gown fell off. That's pretty much the experience,in a nutshell.(naked & blind,roomful of opposite sex health care professionals.Sole comfort was not knowing how many people were in there)
I went out.And came back,to a competely white world (no,it wasn't heaven). One eye,bandaged. The other,dysfunctional. Stood up,black dots streaked across the landscape of bad eye.Lay back down again,quickly.
And the next day,felt the joy of restored vision & the gratitude of a 2nd chance. I cried,profusely.(probably everyone does) 2.5 weeks of worry melted away like a cloaked nightmare. I will always have to wear reading glasses(they hadn't perfected to whole near-far lens implants yet) but to me it is a small price to pay. I will do whatever it takes to keep my vision. Diabetes was to blame(months of high blood sugars wracked havoc,pre-diagnosis) ,but modern medicine does win occasionally, & when it does,there's a sense of stickin' it to the D. I'd have a considerably different life,if it weren't for those surgeries. To me,they meant everything.
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