You wake up and body parts are functioning.
Turn the key in the ignition and all systems are go.
Until they don’t.
Two eyes on Sunday.
1.5 on Monday.
Painfully nagging recurring eye disorder. Detailed here.
Blurred vision. Tear ducts flowing.
Nasal passages oozing goop.
Nausea rolling tummy.
Hip bone connected to the thigh bone.
Thigh bone connected to every bloody thing.
And as for Helen Fielding in Bridget Jones’s Diary and for me:
Once get on tack of thinking about aging there is no escape. Life suddenly seems like a holiday where, halfway through, everything starts accelerating to the end.
“Boy, that accelerated quickly.”
Which led me to thinking about Einstein and miracles.
I’m driving from the office to the Ophthalmologist.
And those of you scolding me about driving with impaired vision, one of my working eyes is better than most of the maniacs with two working eyes on the road today. So relax…
Sorry for the detour. (Violent mood swings are not due to medication. Rachel describes it as in the DNA.)
Back to miracles.
1,000 cars pass me on I-95N. Not one piles into me. Miracle.
Ophthalmologist pokes and prods. He fails to drive his pokey stick through my eye into my skull. Miracle.
He drips drops to magnify the damaged area for inspection. Chemicals don’t fry cornea. Miracle.
Pharmacist reads prescription, is focused, isn’t having a bad day, and avoids dropping sulfuric acid or hemorrhoid cream into my gel tube. Miracle.
I gasp at the price for the prescription. $268 for a tube half the size of my pinky. Did I lose sight in both eyes? I leave Walgreen’s without violent conduct. Miracle.
I’m standing in front of the mirror. Left hand is pulling down left eye lid. Right hand trembling. Worried about squeezing out too much gold dust, it hitting my forehead and blowing through $100 worth of excess lube (which like toothpaste, can’t be squeezed back in.) I hit the groove like a dart on bulls eye. Miracle.
I’m laying in bed, eyes closed, laying perfecting still, waiting for this precious pixie dust to symmetrically distribute itself in my eye socket, and work its magic all night. I’m floating in anxiety, in delirium, pondering the morning outcome, yet manage to fall asleep. Miracle.
I wake up this morning at 4:30 am. My usual start time. (Not a miracle)
And…
There are some things money can’t buy.
And this morning, I saw light, no pain,
and we had two functioning eyeballs.
TobraDex. $268.
Priceless.
Notes: Image Source – gifrific. Ron Burgundy (Will Ferrell) saying “boy, that escalated quickly” during a scene in the 2004 film Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy.
Yay so good! That is a great outcome for you. (well,.. an expensive outcome) Miracles do happen everyday. We just forget to look for them. Your writing reminds us how simple a miracle can be. How precious our health is. And a little reminder…..Just because you are getting better, doesn’t mean you can stop practising stillness ha. 🙂
Smiling. Yes. Yes. I’m listening. 🙂
I think all of us are relieved for and with you!
Thank you!
Arguably a bit early for me to be doing my happy dance – the dogs watching but disinlined to participate – they just shake their heads. I am SO happy – and these days THAT’s a miracle.
Awwwww, Thank you Mimi.
Good result David.
Thank you Alex
Oh, oh so happy for you, pal!! I had a minor health incident last week (nothing compared to the ‘cinder in your eye,’ but it ABSOLUTELY made me appreciate how precious good health is. Hope you continue on the path to recovery, straight as an arrow…
Yes Lori. Thank you. And hope you are through your health “incident”
Yes, thankfully all has resolved, DK, and I’m back to my ‘status quo’ of ‘fit as a fiddle.’ Lookout, Bootcamp, here I come! 😉
Terrific!
I’m so glad to hear you have relief, David. Eye issues really freak me out! Modern medicine is a miracle.
Modern Medicine is a Miracle. Thank you Carolann.
Yeah. Whew. Gratitude. 🙂
Love how you wrote this David!
Thank you Val. Appreciate the kind words.
Love your personal writings–sad though that you were suffering–glad now that you are better. Thank you for pointing out the small everyday miracles–must keep this in mind next time I go to the dentist and he does not drill to China…..
Smiling. Thank you LouAnn. Appreciate it very much.
The way you describe and define a miracle…I love it. To receive each one of those is amazing. So so glad to hear that you’re doing better!
Hey Bonnie. Good to hear from you. It’s been a while. Thank you!
I know…I’ve been missing “hanging out” with you, the end of the academic year kicks my butt! Things are beginning to quiet and settle in to summer mode now. It’s good to be “back”. 🙂
I will no longer tolerate unexcused absences with no notice. I watching you girl.
So noted. She says, shaking. All future absences will be submitted in writing. (Still shaking. ..).
That an appropriate response. You can carry on now.
Whew….
Close call!!
As promised DK..giving notice: there may be a bit of an ‘absence’ approaching. Kiddo and I commence our annual vacation soon. 🙂
Arggggh. This show will collapse. How will we manage in your absence?
Awesome! So happy it’s working for you…
Thank you Peggy.
Happy for the priceless outcome, David. Hold on to the miracle streak.
From your lips, to my eyes….let’s keep this miracle streak going. Thank Helen.
**whooosh** of pent-up, anxious breath.
“So relax…” Even in pain with empty pockets, the Coot rears his one-eyed snarky head.
Smiling. LOVE THIS. Thank you Sandy.
Held my breath through the whole post! Happy news = Miracle! 🙂 MJ
Smiling. Thank you MJ
Gosh, it was so painful reading that…until the end. Really happy you found something that works!
And it’s still working (thankfully). Thank you Carol.
As years pass, one never knows what’s next and it’s always such a surprise to find out. Take good care.
So true…