“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly.” -The Little Prince

It was early December of 2020 and I was preparing to film a zoom video for our work during the pandemic. We were still under government “work from home” guidance and so on this December morning, I decided some makeup might be in order to look like I wasn’t in pajama mode while filming the informational video. Those of you who know me know I am not a seasoned makeup artist, so it is not lost on me that I was motivated to apply some mascara on this particular day. And in the exact moment of attempting to apply mascara to my lashes, I discovered I had no vision in my right eye. ZERO. Black blobs seemingly floating around with no light. And… cut to panic.

A year later, with renewed perspective…I have an all-new medical team…eye doctor, retina specialist, neurologist, vascular specialist and a primary care doctor (we had just moved into a new home and had only been living in an entirely new geography for 2 weeks when I discovered this lack of sight). I have had the best of care including EKG, MRI, vascular CT scans, an ultrasound, a blood clotting assessment and 9 injections into my right eye. Even with incredible doctors and remarkable care, it has been challenging to accept this loss.

The first words hard to hear were “You have had a mini-stroke, a TIA”. That pronouncement happened quickly in December of 2020. An ocular occlusion which caused a lack of oxygen to my retina was the diagnosis. In April, I would hear “You will most probably be legally blind in your right eye. While some progress is still possible with the injections, if you are going to regain full sight, it would have happened by now.” And then in August, while sitting in an ER examining room dizzy and with tingling down the right side of my face, “You’ve likely had a second TIA and we are referring you to a neurologist immediately.”

It was a reckoning of sorts. How do you see the world, Bev, and your place in it? And honestly, yet with some shame, I have struggled with the “why me” self-indulgence. So yes, I was afraid (and while I don’t dwell on it, I continue to carry some genuine fear of a repeat). But we were/are right in the middle of a pandemic. How do you perseverate on something so small when all around you people are fighting for their physical health, their mental health, and their economic health? The discovery of the first TIA and loss of vision in the right eye were pre vaccines and made for interesting appointments and protocols. In every lobby or waiting room, I observed how fortunate I was to be there with ONLY loss of some vision. While I am still wrestling with acceptance, I am also reflecting on the teachings inherent in this experience. I want to share my GRATEFUL FORS, LESSONS TO DATE, and some LAUGHS.

GRATEFUL.

1. COVID. When people are frightened for their health and wellbeing, looking out for vulnerable family members, losing people they love to this virus, and life all around us is stressful due to the worldwide conditions we face, my health scare seemed small. Covid gave me the gift of perspective.
2. HEALTH. I am a very healthy 64-year-old. Despite having two TIA’s in nine months and a slightly elevated A1C level (bad covid eating), my test results were normal. EVERY. SINGLE. TEST. NORMAL.
3. LEFT EYE. My vision in my left eye is spectacular and it has compensated very well. I have to take extra care to protect it (although the goggles my husband thought would make a good safety shield are not fashionably appropriate!), but the left eye is a CHAMP. It allows me to do life without limitations…some cautions, of course, but not limits.
4. FAMILY. My husband showed up for every step of this journey and I am so grateful for his support, encouragement and perspective. My children have been wonderfully supportive and protective. Their guidance with ideas about new science and nutrition have challenged me and have been the cause for some new routines. My parents and siblings can always be counted on and their continuous prayers made me feel so loved. And my precious Aunt was ferociously battling cancer during this time. She needed me and that was everything. I was so worried about her that it helped me NOT think about me.
5. FAITH. Having survived a few life challenges and even those you could label as trauma; I was confident that this health scare had purpose and meaning. I will figure out the lessons. I am a work in progress.

LESSONS.

1. In my approximate 5200 weeks on the planet, I am not promised any, and I need to live every moment understanding I don’t determine the finish line. Gusto.
2. What I “see” is beautiful…from a mountain of sand to a dirty litter box. My heart creates the lens. Loving to see ‘it’ all is a gift. Joy!
3. Retirement became clear to a workaholic not able to see an end. I am NOT Wonder Woman despite my biggest fantasies.
4. I have the most extraordinary circle of friends and family. They deserve my love and support in whatever form that evolves in my new chapter. Blessed.
5. Night driving and depth perception have never been strong skills for me. I now have a new respect for their influence and importance in everyday living. I hold the rails going downstairs now without being told.
6. Even the slack efforts during covid to do workouts at home and eat semi-healthy meals made a difference. I am sure years of practicing consistent healthy exercise and nutritional habits contributed to my good test results. GET BACK AT IT!
7. Things happen that we have absolutely NO control over… (if I hear one more time that the root cause may be “the number of birthdays you’ve had”), but we do control how we respond to those bumps. We control our attitude. GRACE.
8. Your retina is a part of your brain. It is the only part of your brain that lives outside of your skull. Modern science has not magically determined a way to regenerate brain tissue. Yes, I have a biology degree. FACTS.

LAUGHS.

1. Failing Eye Charts every month. Just read the smallest line you can. I can’t see a chart. Just read the smallest line you can. I can tell there is a chart. Just read the smallest line you can. I cannot see letters. Just read the smallest line you can. I can tell there is light around the chart. Just read the smallest line you can. Ooooo, I can see parts of letters around the outside of the chart. Just read the smallest line you can. I cannot see any lines with letters.
2. My husband believes I would make a bossy but very attractive pirate…but I’m glad I don’t need an eye patch!
3. Most of my new doctors look no older than about 15. I have survived my overly judgmental first impressions and these young professionals have proven to me that they are most splendidly spectacular! My misinformed impressions result in good chuckles after appointments. Especially when you go in feeling 35 and they all use the phrase, “if you were my mother…”!!!!
4. Laughing is the greatest healer. Spending time with peeps who make you laugh rigorously and at yourself, is divine. Attempting to make others laugh is even more fun.
5. Margaritas! With salt! Just sayin.

“Look straight ahead, there’s nothing but blue skies”. Thank you, Johnny Nash. I now fully comprehend your lyrics. I wasn’t sure this event was story worthy. It has taken me awhile to get beyond the vanity and be vulnerable. I am still in the “seek to understand” phase but I know there is a purpose in this experience, an Amazing Grace. In every hardship there is the opportunity to “see” possibility. I remain grateful to be a student exploring how we see the world and how we develop vision. “I can see clearly now the rain is gone. I can see all obstacles in my way. Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind. It’s gonna be a bright, bright, bright sunshiny day.”