Well I’m slowly getting over my last eye visit by trying not to dwell on it too much and keeping those tissues handy in case of any tear relapses. I keep telling myself I’m not the first and I won’t be the last and it’s comforting to know this. Afterall that mantra worked when Mom was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer; so why not now right?
It’s a slow process telling yourself to be brave; stop being a baby, etc but so necessary if you want to keep from just giving up. I keep telling myself that this is all part of The Master Plan, but sometimes I just don’t want to believe it.
I keep thinking about Mom and wonder how she coped. Wish she was here now because I would so love to ask her, but she’s not; so I just have to imagine that she was tough. I remember when she found out that there was nothing that could be done for her eyes. Dad was coming home from the hospital and would be on oxygen. He said he couldn’t come home unless Mom had everything arranged. Here she was trying to cope with her awful news, and take care of my dad who had no clue because she had never told him just how bad her vision was.
I remember saying something about her possibly blowing up the house because she couldn’t see that well and was shocked at her “Good!” response. Now I understand completely…