A Christmas miracle? An Easter miracle? I honestly have no idea how to explain today. I’m so mixed up and exhausted that I’m not sure if I’m coming or going. No, actually, I know for SURE that we are coming home!
The appointment with the cornea specialist was absolutely the best way to end these past 10 days, as you can possibly imagine.
To say I was a bit anxious when we got to the appointment might be an understatement. Mostly, I was just anxious to get on the road and get headed home, so when the very (VERY!) nice doctor walked in and started visiting about being a graduate of LSU Medical School, loving New Orleans, his family history with Mardi Gras, his love of “mud bugs”, his previous “crawfish boils,” his passion for bringing the heat to his food, and his overall love of Louisiana; I nearly jumped out of my skin while trying my absolute best to be an attentive, reflective listener.
30 minutes later, we began the discussion of my eyes and as I described my symptoms, he pulled up example pictures (of the same) on his computer. Within about 10 minutes, he convinced me to allow him to place a contact lens about the size of a nickel on my right eye (the one with the double vision).
I immediately lost my double vision for the first time in 2 years. I bawled. And then he placed my glasses on my face and I could see even better. He explained that most eye doctors don’t like to study what he specializes in, because, quite frankly, it’s boring. But unfortunately, that’s “why they overlook the most obvious and easy solutions.”
Without going into all of the science, I can tell you my eyelid still drops and he suggested I simply tape it open if it drops too much, since I didn’t want to have the surgery to lift my eyelid. When I asked him about the “Fuchs/cornea disease” issue, he said, “Well, does this contact lens resolve your immediate concern with your vision today?” Of course, I responded affirmatively so he said, “Well then, we don’t need to worry about anything else for right now.”
Good enough for me because if I can’t do anything about it, there is no sense in hearing all the gory details and frightening myself.
I asked if I could keep the contact lens he had placed in my eye. When he said, yes, I responded with, “Good, because I didn’t want to fight you for it.” So, he gave me another one and told me I can keep the lens in my eye 24 hours a day and only need to replace it once a week. He gave me a spare lens and a prescription and said he’s looking forward to returning to Louisiana this summer for an annual 3-day silent retreat he does at a convent. I turned to him as we rolled out and said, “Praise God.” He said, “You made my day. Your smile makes it all worth it.” David enthusiastically agreed with both of us and we left.
Look, I know there is a lot to grieve, but I just drove (that’s right…I was behind the wheel!) toward home for 3 hours, I have really great vision tonight and I shared a breathtaking sunset with the man God sent, so we would both know what it means to truly be cherished.
Those are really good reasons to celebrate, so I’m calling it a miracle. Whether you call it a Christmas miracle or an Easter miracle, I honestly do not care.
Peace, Only in Him