Tag: eyesight

children, eyesight, gratitude, life in pictures, mommyhood

Amen.

WFAM

I’m feeling a bit like a blogger who has lost her words (well, only a little, as you’ll see I manage to write on). I’ve been trying to capture what I am feeling and words on a screen cannot do it justice. Full Speed got his new glasses yesterday and they are amazing. What tugged at my heartstrings most was how PROUD he was to wear them. Up until now he has worn his other glasses without complaint. I can’t imagine they were comfortable weighing down his adorable, little face and denting in the sides of his sensitive nose. Even so I was surprised at how excited he was to have his new glasses. I guess the fact that everyone in the optometrist’s office kept commenting on his extreme level of good looks in his new frames probably egged on his sense of pride (and let’s face it, an almost five year old loves to be the center of attention).

cute new glasses

Of course during his fitting for his new frames, little brother T.Puzzle escaped from the tiny room with all the children’s frames and was peering at me through a window in the waiting area, standing on a chair of course, and saying “Hi, Mommy!” over and over. It is guaranteed chaos when we trek to the optometrist’s. It’s because it is a place wholly unequipped for the five and under set.

As we exited the office (thankfully with all display cases still intact) and I took pictures of Full Speed’s beaming smile in his new frames, I thought about what it meant. His vision has improved. He can see. My prayer for improved sight from so long ago had finally been answered.

Over the years my prayers have changed. I felt so helpless when Full Speed was initially diagnosed and it made me feel more in control in the sad, dark hours of the night to send a prayer out into the universe. I figured it couldn’t hurt an already challenging situation. Through this process, as you know, I first prayed for the betterment of his vision. Eventually, I let that prayer go (as my acceptance of his condition grew and all that went with it) and I started to pray for different things. I began to pray for strength and courage. One of the most important changes I remember was asking that wherever our journey took us as a family in life, that we would be in a place that offered the best possible eye care for my children. We moved to Florida and the rest is history. Amen.

cute new glasses three

eyesight, health, parenting, surgery

Ladies’ Man

WFAM

Our doctor graciously agreed to perform Full Speed’s second surgery on a Friday. This meant that she would have to meet us at the Children’s Clinic on a Saturday for a follow-up. Since the clinic is technically closed on Saturday, we had to have the security guard let us in, the lights were out in the building and we had to go in a back way through a maze of offices.

Full Speed’s follow-up was good. He struggled a little because his eye was sensitive to light as it is still dilated from all the drops from yesterday’s surgery. He was uncomfortable and that was obvious.

We are currently waiting for his new prescription to come in and hoping we get it sometime next week. To get him adequate vision to function in the meantime, the doctor put in an extended-wear contact in his right eye while he continues to wear a protective shield over his left. He struggled through the contact process. He fidgeted and would flinch almost every time the contact was nearly in place. We tried it with him seated, then lying down and then finally seated again. I marveled at how challenging it was for even the doctor to get a contact on him. How I managed to change them in and out when we tried them before is quite miraculous.

Eventually, the contact was in place and we were given clearance to go home. Before we left, the doctor hands us two spare contacts in case he loses the one in his right eye. Mad Dog and I are astonished at this. When Full Speed had contacts ordered before, we had to wait over a month for them to come in because they were so highly specialized. Once we had them, we were only allowed one pair so when we lost one, we were out of luck. With his new prescription, the Children’s Clinic came up with a contact for him in a day and gave us two spares no problem. It is surreal being in the world of the normal range prescription. We are so thankful.

As we go down the stairs to the parking lot, Full Speed holds the doc’s hand. They have hit it off tremendously and it seems like a perfectly natural gesture. As we pull out from the parking garage, Full Speed tells us again that the doctor is his girlfriend. He then goes on to list all of his lady friends. After the doctor it’s our babysitter, then two girls from his class and last but not least, his Mom. It’s an honor just being nominated really.

eyesight, health, loss of parent, mommyhood, surgery

The ‘Game Face’

WFAM

We are home after the surgery and we are thankful to be so. As evening approaches I make some popcorn and we head up to our family loft area to watch ‘The Fox and the Hound’. It feels good to be all snuggled together.

It was nice to sort of let the events of the day fade into the background. It’s exhausting constantly to have your ‘game face’ on for your children.

There was a moment when Full Speed was done with the surgery and Mad Dog and I were with him that I almost completely lost it. I was standing next to his metal crib watching him. He was still and peaceful. He was hooked up to an I.V. and all the other contraptions to monitor his vital signs and the tears started to pour down my cheeks.

I couldn’t fathom all this year has put us through. I thought back to when my Mom was diagnosed with stage IV pancreatic cancer and the dreadfulness that ensued. I remembered going through some of my own medical procedures and testing this summer (all relatively minor with positive results) and how physically and emotionally demanding that had all been on the heels of my Mom’s medical disaster. I thought of the countless trips to downtown Jacksonville to the Children’s Clinic as I tried to get Full Speed the best vision possible, failing miserably with contacts and Mad Dog and I making the scary decision to move forward with his last-ditch eye surgeries. I also tried to process some of the strangeness of my family dynamics with my Mom missing from its core.
p7232915

Feeling overwhelmed, I wanted to curl up in a tiny ball and cry. Instead, Full Speed woke up and he was awfully cantankerous shaking off the anesthesia and I had to get my ‘game face’ back on.

When do Mommies get their moments to lose it? I’ll let you know when I finally have mine.

eyesight, good grief, loss of parent, mommyhood, self-discovery

Progress

WFAM

Full Speed’s eye testing today was phenomenal. It is the best I have ever seen him do. He was rattling off tiny letters like he had been doing it his whole life (which he has not). I finally broke down a little in the exam room. It still hasn’t totally connected in my heart that his vision has improved significantly. I keep waiting for someone to jump out and say that it’s a joke and that he still is considered legally blind.

There are no words. There are no words that a mother can say to properly describe the overwhelming desire for her children to have clear vision. My psyche cannot process that this day of clear sight is finally here. Both my boys are on track for excellent vision. Unbelievable.

Today even T.Puzzle wowed at his regular check-up. We had scheduled it months before Full Speed had his surgery so we piggy-backed Full Speed’s post-op with this  appointment. T.Puzzle was identifying letters like a firecracker. The nurse of course was impressed that a two year old knew his letters so well (thank you pre-school and Sesame Street!) and fawned over him when he said the letter ‘F’ as ‘efp’ (it was pretty adorable).

It felt like I was in another exam room with different children (and thank you to my Mother-in-law who accompanied me and supported us today). This was the first time the eye tests were a breeze for both of them (as we have finally pinpointed T.Puzzle’s prescription and what a long road that was!). I felt like I imagine a majority of the population feels when they take their kids in for check-ups and the doctor has them read the simple eye-chart. I felt like of course they can identify a tiny letter ‘B’ from across the room. That’s just what kids do. And now, it’s what MY kids do. I’m still shaking my head in disbelief.

The progress for my boys is remarkable. I feel like I also made some progress on my own path towards healing. Today I purposefully chose to wear a necklace that my Mom had given me a couple years ago. It is flowery and blue which happen to be two of my favorite artistic components of expression. I did not feel sad as I placed it around my throat and hooked the clasp shut. I felt empowered and loved. She had wanted good vision for my boys as badly as I do. I embraced what I felt to be her presence and I smiled. I am doubly thankful that now my boys will be able to see their Mommy’s smile clearly.

My prayer is one of thanks today. Some tears have fallen, but they have been tears of gratitude and deeply felt love. Whether it was seen, felt or heard, love was all around us.

eyesight, health, mommyhood, parenting, self-discovery

Eye Am Thankful

WFAM

So far the result of Full Speed’s surgery has been spectacular. It doesn’t seem real. I am having trouble imagining the possibility of much improved vision.

baby in glasses
Full Speed was first diagnosed with extreme myopia (which means he was off-the-charts nearsighted) when he was 20 months old. The subsequent journey and various doctor’s appointments from geneticists to surgeons has been a test of courage and faith. I have always held out hope in the back of my mind that his vision would be good (excellent even). I have prayed endlessly that he would have 20/20 vision. I have cried and then I have prayed some more. Eventually, I started to take my cues from Full Speed. He began eye-testing with letters when he was two years old. He handled every appointment (well, there were some deep in the heart of the terrible twos that I think I’ve blocked from memory) the best he could. As he matured, he came to respect doctors and followed their directions with ease. He is so comfortable in hospital/doctor office settings now it’s almost like doing anything else we might do during our day.

I also have learned to evaluate Full Speed’s condition based on his functioning. His functioning is awesome. He has mastered all his physical milestones and then some and is right on track intellectually. I began to realize that extreme myopia later diagnosed as ectopia lentis et pupillae with lens subluxation (dislocated lenses) looks pretty amazing if you ask me.

yellow belt kick

I had this strange moment when Full Speed was three years old and he was testing for his first Tae Kwon Do belt. As I sat in the testing room with family and friends I had this sort of out of body experience. I saw clearly for the first time that if all Full Speed was ever allowed was minimal vision, he was going to kick life in the ass and be a huge success. I learned a new prayer that day. The prayer was a thank you for the vision provided to my son for it is exactly what he needs to be who he is. That was the day I started to learn acceptance. I accepted his coke-bottle lenses whole heartedly (I mean come on, they are freakin’ adorable!). I accepted that regular eye check-ups (sometimes done under anesthesia) and doctor’s visits were a part of our lives. I accepted that while some of his eye care may be a challenge (patching his left eye on a daily basis), it’s just what we do.

Flash forward and here we are with another major eye surgery under our belts and on the cusp of much improved vision. I know whatever happens Full Speed will have exactly the amount of vision he needs to be whoever he will be (which is incredible in my slightly biased opinion). I will certainly be thankful if that is anywhere near 20/20 vision.

p8263052