Something Else
11.8.2023
I knew it when I wrote my last post but I just couldn’t pack any more bad news into that message. My vision has changed. I’m not seeing like I used to. We have been watching fluid in my eyes for years but it has never drifted into my central vision so it has not been a problem. At one point, a few years ago, my eye doctor thought I might have cancer in my eyes so I met with a retina specialist. I loved him because he told me what I wanted to hear, “Nah, it's not cancer.”
With my vision being…less…lately I had another visit with that retina specialist. I reminded him that we’d met a few years ago and how much I liked him because he told me what I wanted to hear about cancer in my eyes. His response? “What if I changed my mind?”
Have you ever even heard of someone that has cancer in their eyes? I certainly hope not! I haven’t. This is getting ridiculous! The good news is that we don’t need to do anything in particular about it just yet. Cancer that is improving elsewhere is cancer that will improve in my eyes. Great!
I’m seeing things differently - literally - so I’m trying to figure out both what I want to do and what I can do. Things that I could do just a short time ago are harder. I’m stubborn - and that helps a lot - but I’m slowly realizing that I just have to do things differently. I’ll be happier if I do.
Thirteen years ago when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, we had space for a sewing room in our house. It was a wonderful luxury and a beautiful outlet for me to do something I enjoyed when I wasn’t feeling well enough to do my normal things. Now, our bedrooms are filled with people! It’s a wonderful thing. Although, it is tough to find space to do the creative things I love without a lot of setup. Over the weekend, I started trying to carve out a little sewing space for myself in the dining room. It all started with lighting. I needed enough light in our dark, old house to be able to see. We bought a beautiful task light, clamped it on the little table in the corner and I set up my sewing machine. My aspirations were low. I’d just mend the open seams on our dish rags. They’re in perfectly good condition except they were cheap and all the end seams have worn open. It would be an easy fix. With some color-matching help from Jackson, I filled a bobbin with the correct color thread. Then, it was time to thread the machine’s needle. My eyes felt blurry, they filled with tears. Overwhelmed at the challenge, I couldn’t do it.
This is my life now? I think I can, I think I can, I can’t?
In the end I did thread the needle - twice - and I’m confident I’ll be able to do it again. I’m putting tiny threads through small spaces and succeeding. That’s what my body feels like, too, but it’s okay. I’m going to keep trying. I’m going to keep breathing, crying when I need to and do what I can to look at life from the perspective of a full cup. There are so many things I’m interested in and so many ways I can enjoy this life. I’ll thread needles while I can and when I can’t anymore, I’ll just do something else!