Sis called me last week to tell me that my niece wanted to know about macular degeneration since she’s gonna be heading down that dang path too and had questions; so Sis gave her my phone number and was calling to say, “Please don’t be mad, but…” After I was able to “process” my initial reaction I was able to talk and we had an hour’s worth of chit chat skirting the issue of If I could get my hands on you, I’d… That’s what happens with a family; they try to help whether you want them to or not.
During our conversation Sis told me that my niece would be sending an email asking if she could call me which is very sweet considering Sis had given her my number. I read the email later that evening and then spent days preparing for our conversation.
I don’t mean to sound callous, but I needed to prepare to face my fears again. Remembering the pain of eye shots and the fear that’s often immobilized me can be stifling unless I’m prepared; so I took a few days before answering the email, and apologized for taking so long to do it. I told my niece to leave a voicemail because I rarely answer unrecognized phone numbers. (I have to be in emotional control to keep my stress in check or my eyes hurt like hell; so controlling the calls is one of the tricks I use, as is ignoring the noise around me though sometimes my neighbors drop something or the child next door sneaks over and bangs on my door; that little scamp.)
Anyway we had a nice conversation and I answered all of my niece’s questions. I also told her to check my blog for posts on my eye shots and told her about stem cell trials. If her eyes are bad enough, she might be a good candidate. (Talk about an oxymoron if I ever heard one.) Onward for us both…