Saturday, 11 December 2010

Two sides.

Though my problem this week was ultimately small, it would be a lie to pretend that I was not very conflicted by it.

At one point, one of the doctors said I was still seeing very well.    When she went off to consult with the other doctors, and left me alone for a time I had some moments to mull that thought over.

At the time, one eye was very hazy. If I looked through only that eye, all I could make out was shapes. I could see the shape of a head, but no features, no eyes, no faces.  I could see the difference between dark and light, I could see there were things on the back of the door, but had I not known they were signs, I would have decided they were mere discolorations.  My vision was nothing if not unbalanced.  

In the midst of that sharp and dark short time before diagnosis and my speedy cure, I wondered at her statement that I had pretty good vision.  I worried that 'pretty good vision' was all I would end up with.   

My mind wandered through all kinds of things.  The first thing I thought of was 'damn, and I am going to have to learn to like audio books'  That bothered me.  

Then I thought about lace.  What was I ever going to do with all my laceweight yarn?  I love my laceweight.  How could I let it go?

And my unfinished embroidery?  I would never finish those.  

And tress.  Was I ever going to see and be able to appreciate new leaves coming out on the trees at the farm?  Would I ever really be able to see flower buds progress from green bud emerging to full flower?  Would I see my garden grow?

These are small things really.  I'm sure that is what her comment about still seeing pretty good was all about.  Life would not substantially change.  And yet, these small things are the colour and spice of my life.

My time to worry about these things was short and I know I am blessed and lucky.  Very very lucky that the stars were on my side, that the doctors could see me when I needed them before it got worse, that for all its faults, we still have pretty good medicare system.  

I know that I will, with time complete my embroideries, that I can still read books, that I will knit my laceweight, that I will see the garden grow come spring. I know I had a really good day.

And I think of those who did not have a day with a good end. I'm thinking of them a lot.  I'm thinking of those who had to tell them too.

Rejoicing and sorrow.  Two sides of the same coin, always, in everything two sides.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I'm so glad they were able to be there when you needed them. Those must have been some difficult moments. How is the eye working today? GD