Snow, sleet, rain - temps 2 degrees celcius.
Wouldn't you know it - we have to drive an hour and a half into Montreal, through this. yech. happily we have a great car and good tires. Not insignificant in Quebec in late fall/winter.
We're going in to see Michael's eye doctor. Actually, his surgeon. Michael has had glaucoma for almost thirty years and has begun to lose his 'field of vision' which is a nice way of saying his sight. Makes it sound a little as though he can't see the wild flowers or barley in the field, but everything else is fine. Which it isn't. But we've been so lucky it hasn't progressed further and faster. it's remarkable to have managed it so well for so long. Thanks to Michael's discipline with his sea of eye drops, and his opthamologists.
Just before we left on the world tour we got the news his right eye would almost certainly have to have a major operation which might result in complete loss of vision in that one eye. He's the MOST amazing man. He managed to not brood on that. And I tried not to ask him at every stop...'So, how're you feeling?'
You know, I found it a little hard to know what to do. I didn't want him to think I was so wrapped up in myself I didn't care about his sight. But I also didn't want to remind him of this impending event all the time. After worrying it for a few continents I finally asked whether he wanted to talk about it. So we did.
Michael seems to have a remarkable facility for concentrating on, and enjoying, the moment at hand. And not projecting, not looking ahead. He plans, but he doesn't worry. At first I thought he was pretending, faking, living in denial. Lying. But after a decade or more together I know he really means it.
And I looked at my own fears. All of them are anticipatory. What if... And the oddest thing occured to me. Not a single one of my fears has happened. The plane hasn't crashed, the bridge didn't collapse, the elevator made it up and down. Nothing. All was well. And yet I'd tortured myself with fear. This I'd done, like mutilation, to myself.
And the same with his eye operation! When we got back the went straight to this new eye surgeon for a consult, he looked, poked Michael's eye with a needle to relieve the pressure and announced him cured.
We thought he was drunk.
Cured? there is no cure for glaucoma, Dr. Penny explained to the eye surgeon. He smiled and explained that might be so - but still, Michael was cured. But he wanted to see him in a week, to be sure the procedure worked.
Can you believe it???? We've been euphoric since.
And now we're driving through a mini-snowstorm to Michael's doctors for the long-term prognosis. And we couldn't be happier.
Still, fingers crossed. I hear that works. Has so far.
Speak to you tomorrow.