The window to my world shone
bright and clean this afternoon. The preceding hours had been worth it for the view; which at that moment was smudgeless. Two things happened to change that.
Little hands waved bye bye to momma and daddy. I think a blown kiss got added to the prints. The sweetness of this took the edge off what happened next.
For my internal smudge showed up again. The one I can’t shake. The one that had made me wonder if I was losing it.
A few days ago I saw some flashes of light as I went from one room to the next. But there was no flashing light in either room. Then I had what seemed like a weird “floater” in my eye. A grey smudge in the middle. Then it was gone in a few hours and I was left wondering if I had imagined it.
A couple of days later the smudge was back. I actually cleaned my glasses for it seemed like that’s what it was. But the flash of light was real as was the grey dot and it was time to investigate what was occurring.
My maternal grandmother was blind by the time I was in elementary school. The white cane her constant companion. Her soft hands on your arm as she walked beside you. The never ending knitting of strips — 6″ x 60″ that her daughters-in-law turned into endless apghans for the entire family.
My father struggled with his sight for years. In my teen age years he had a quack of an eye doctor and his acute onset glaucoma was mistreated. By the time I had my children most of his vision had been lost to that and it was finished off with macular degeneration. He didn’t make the same kind of adjustment that his mother had. He did try making hooked rugs but his lack of patience wasn’t much help to someone adjusting to darkness and he was quite bitter.
My mother, a few years ago, lost most of her sight in one eye due to a stroke in her eye. Treatments went on for a significant length of time. Eventually they felt that nothing more could be done as now macular degeneration had occurred as well. She has followed in my father’s footsteps and no longer even knits simple stitches.
My middle sister, around the age I am now, was diagnosed with glaucoma. My brother, only 15 months older than me, was diagnosed with dry and wet macular degeneration about 2 years ago.
I’ve learnt that you don’t fool around with eye care. My opthalmigist office obviously agrees and I was in to see the doctor within 24 hours. A few tests later and it was confirmed I wasn’t “losing it” but rather that I have a small retinal area that has some significant changes. At this moment in time it’s not a retinal detachment but I now know all the warning signs and will proceed to ER if they happen. Some time next week will be spent at the specialist’s office — the same one my mom saw for treatment after her major eye issue.
The windows to my world; internally and externally are vital. I love looking out the window at nature and I need to look out my eyes to see out my windows.
It’s Thanksgiving weekend and I a indeed thankful. I live where health coverage and access to excellent medical care is easy really. I’m thankful that I paid attention to these flashes and didn’t just dismiss or ignore it. I’m always thankful that my grandchildren can come mark up my windows and spend time in my house and my heart. I’m thankful that my windows show me a rural view that is a reward for our hard work, commitment and that we were both double winners at the birth lottery.