SO, I'M NOW BLIND IN ONE EYE

I woke up this morning and couldn't see anything with my left eye, not even light. Phil booked an appointment with the retina doctor and the diagnosis is "Central Retinal Artery Occlusion." I feel each word should be capitalized as--to me--this is a big deal. The vision loss is total and permanent.


I texted the kids, their spouses and a few friends on the way to my appointment, asking for their prayers. Each and every one responded, most within minutes. Some followed up the texting with phone calls. Many phone calls. I feel very loved. One of my boys cried on the phone--now I know he really loves me and hasn't just been pretending all these years. One made me promise to eat a better diet and to exercise every single day. One drove 45 minutes to be at my side--the big baby. She said she came as much to reassure Elizabeth as me but I needed her and she came. The fact that she came in to also reassure her sister, is to me, a big deal. I love sibling loyalty. One friend came and sat on the lawn swings with me--she knew she couldn't help but she came to be with me and I love her for it. All of them told me they loved me. Many made jokes, which I loved.


Some of those jokes:

• "Wow, Mom. You won't have to spend extra money going to 3-D movies."
• "Humm, this opens up new gift ideas for your birthday." (I'm thinking eye patches and a parrot to sit on my shoulder...Aarg, Matey.)
• "Can I call you One Eyed Wily?" (You can if you buy me that nifty shirt, below.)
• "Can I buy you a Cyclops costume." (No one actually said that, that's the part of this post that is "invented" but it's funny, right? Kind of funny? Okay, so nobody has as warped a sense of humor as I have.)
• "Mom, your turkey gobbler"...you know what a "turkey gobbler" is, right? It's that annoying piece of skin hanging from your chin. Well, not your chin. Your chin is tight and firm but I have an annoying turkey gobbler. Anyway, "Mom, your turkey gobbler will get smaller because you'll have to look way back to your left now--oh, wait, maybe your turkey gobbler will get bigger!"

After everyone went home and I had a minute to think about it, I went upstairs and had a good cry. On the phone tonight to a friend, I cried again. And now I'm finished and this is why.

• The occlusion could have happened in my brain--then I would have had a stroke. That might lead to drooling and I'm against drooling--unless it's by babies and then it's okay.
• The occlusion could have happened in my "good" eye, instead of my "bad" eye. (The bad eye had a retinal detachment years ago and had vision loss and also had a cataract. [I'm not old enough for this stuff, really, I'm not.] So, the vision in my good eye could have been lost.)
• They could have given me that clot busting drug and I could have had a "brain bleed" and that would have caused major problems to my charming personality.
• I could be dead. Then my kids could call me on the phone and say, "Are ye dead, mon?" I, of course, wouldn't answer because, after all, I'd be dead.

There were many tender mercies today. Trials are all how you look at them and I'm looking at this one as a major blessing. Now tomorrow, I might have a bit of a pity-party, but tonight, I'm focusing on the positive.