Temporary Blindness

My eyes, age 43.

Yesterday, I had my annual trip to the eye doctor for a check-up.  I learned two new things... one, my vision is still unique... and two, I am getting old.

So a little backstory first... I had lasik surgery in the 90's before anyone knew what lasik surgery was.

I was born with bad eyes. I was in coke-bottle glasses before I could even write my name in elementary school. I was in hard contacts by 4th grade, not for vanity, but with the intent to stop my eyeballs from morphing into an even more serious astigmatism. I lost contacts on a regular basis and could often be found with my hands grasping on the ground searching for a lost contact or on the ramp of a giant cruise ship crawling around crying.  The thought makes me uneasy and sad.

How bad were my eyes?

Bad. On the verge of blindness.

I could see (maybe) one or two inches in front of me. INCHES.

My regular eye doctor reminded me yesterday that he has yet to have a patient with worse eyes in his practice.

The Opthamology God that gave me 20/40 vision in 1997 is my hero. He saw my case and literally salivated at the thought of correcting my vision using his just patented FDA-approved laser. I salivated at the fact that I no longer wanted to be a slave to my contacts. I mean, when you carry back-ups to the back-ups to the back-ups and live in constant fear of losing a contact life becomes very isolating.

Before lasik became commonplace like teeth whitening there was this crazy head-on collision of radical laser eye surgery and brave people like me that had nothing to lose. I was the test rat. I paid an obscene amount of money and it was the best money I have ever spent in my life, hands down. EVER.

One month after my vision was restored I did something I NEVER attempted in my life. I swam underwater in the ocean. It was exhilarating.  I was finally free from the anchor of bad vision.

How has my vision been since? Pretty awesome for the last 14 years. I have some issues driving at night with the halos from car headlights (a side effect of the "old" lasik method). I have minor issues with reading restaurant menus in dim lights. But guess what? I have a cool pair of glasses with insanely thin lenses to help me out. When I put them on, I feel smart, not self-conscious.

But now, age is creeping up. I haven't been able to read labels with tiny print and working in the computer business hasn't helped for sure. It looks like someday I'll be needing reading glasses too. Like real soon.

Like today.

And, upon dilation of my eyes, the eye doctor observed that my retina is still thin (always will be) and continues to remain under constant surveillance. I'm like a old car with a new paint job. My eyes look great on the outside but the inside is still really ugly. Throw in the fact that glaucoma and macular degeneration runs in my family, and well... I have a potpourri of things to look forward to.

But nothing beats the fact that I can see.   Because for 29 years of my life, I could not.

And today, 14 years ago I walked out of a surgery center with a new lease on life.

Reading glasses? Seriously, I can handle that.

Sixteen Years

When I was a teenager in the 80's my favorite movie was Sixteen Candles.

I thought it was cool. And even in her angst-ridden haze of 15 going on 16, I thought Samantha had a pretty charmed life. She had a postcard family and lived in a great house. Sure, her grandmother was a little bit of a loose cannon, and she had to endure stare-downs and panty raids from the geek squad. But really, who wouldn't want to be Samantha? She kissed the geek and ran off into the sunset with Jake, the most handsome and sensitive guy to walk the planet.  And he had a Porsche! Did it even matter that her family forgot her birthday?

I remember seeing this movie for the first time (I was 15 too), wondering... when will I meet my prince?

The answer unbeknownst to me was... I already did.

I kissed my prince on the cheek in the middle of bike path at the tender age of 11. He gave me a Hershey's Kiss necklace that summer from the school fair. I still have it in my jewelry box.

After that summer I became boy-crazy, yet I didn't have a date or another kiss until I was 16. From that time on, I had a few boyfriends, a lot of crushes, a lot of tears and angst, and an overwhelming need to find my Jake.

But I had already found him in 1979, the boy with the dark-hair, blue eyes, and crooked smile.  On that bike path.

I married him on February 11, 1995 when I was 27.

So, isn't it ironic? I longed for my prince only to have had him right under my nose all the time.

He was and is equal parts Jake and Geek. The best parts, rolled into one.

And here we are, sixteen candles since our wedding day.

Still sweet as ever.

Happy Anniversary, Honey.

 

Step Two: Working it Out

My last post of 2010 was about taking chances.

Step one, letting the world know about our plans to complete our family via adoption.  And now... An even bigger step.

A new job.

It seems silly to equate my working life even close to that news, but this IS big news. I used my infertility as a crutch for far too many years when it came to work efforts.

I made excuses for not taking on new projects. I didn't pursue promotions because I worried... "what if?.." what if I was cycling, pregnant, or recovering from miscarriage? What if I needed time off medically? I lived in a state of flux.  I limited my work travel because of ultrasound appointments and calendars. I decided that life was better on permanent hold because I just couldn't see past the success or failure of my baby making efforts.

Six years of a holding pattern.

And then... The excuses faded away.

Comical, really. Because I could get "the call" at any time now. Tomorrow, next month, next year.

And I may be patient waiting for that call, but I can no longer wait for life to pass me by. I WANT to do more. I want to experience fulfillment in a place other than the places I've focused on over those years.

My first step into the unknown on the workfront was a failure.  I stuck my neck out. And I got burned. Or so I thought.

That job I pursued internally last fall (and didn't work out) led me to another job. A job I liked even more. And guess what?

I got the job.

It's scary, daunting, exciting, challenging, and it's mine.

And I didn't factor anything into my decision based on fear and the unknown. I based it on what will make me happy right now.  I am not looking past this month, this week, THIS DAY.

When I said I was jumping out of the box this year?

Yeah, I wasn't kidding.