You’ve heard the phrase. You’ve read it. So many times, it might sound trite. This morning, MY HEART IS FILLED WITH JOY.
Right out of cataract surgery yesterday morning, I began to see improvement in every aspect of my vision. Having lost so much of it in such a brief span of time, I’ve never appreciated sight more than I do this morning.
Outside, the “white fog” has lifted. I can see the pines beyond my porch – green against a blue sky. I can see the neighbor’s car and tell it’s white. How can I put into words what it means to open my front door and not be greeted by a wall of white glare?
At home yesterday I gave myself little “eye tests” all day. I can see television, the faces of the news. Hell, I can read the crawler! I can read can labels. I can enjoy my framed art prints – “Rose” and “Calla Lily,” representing three women I admire: Rose Kennedy, Rosa Parks and Katharine Hepburn. I’m gushing.
I can see a light bulb, no longer in a blinding pool of glare!
Fonts – words – on my computer and videomagnifier are crisp and clear, no longer lost in blurred whiteness. I will have to get used to sitting up straight in my computer chair, my nose no longer touching my monitor’s screen.
On the phone last night, my great-nephew Michael Bradshaw told me to “watch ‘Charlie Wilson’s War.’ “ The movie, based on one of my favorite books from last year’s reading (“talking books”) list, was “On Demand” when I was in Mississippi. We all watched it, and Michael remembered me saying, “I just wish I could see it.” I told him, it’s on my agenda!
Can you imagine being excited over paying a bill? I just saw a return address in the corner of an envelope and could see the check I wrote to pay the bill it held!
Effusive? Yes! And, feeling what William Wordsworth felt when he stumbled upon “a host of golden daffodils.”
Thanks to all of you who care. And, to Charlie, Teresa and Chris for their help.
I am thankful to God for leading me to the skilled hand and good judgment of Dr. Boris Ilg.
Retinitis pigmentosa might eventually rob me of my sight, but that fickle foe can never take from me my feelings on this “great gettin’-up morning.”