Kage Baker hated waiting for things. She despised anticipation, especially if she was forced to endure it. About the most she could stand happily was seeing her presents for a birthday or Christmas the night before – so she could moan and speculate and shake the packages, but only for a little while.
Much more than a long evening and her head blew up. It’s why we opened stockings at midnight on Christmas Eve. She simply couldn’t wait for the entire show until the next morning.
The very worst part of Kage’s mortal illness – at least for her – was waiting for the initial surgery. The diagnosis came quickly, after the biopsy; and after the first surgery, things were a horrible, but undeniably swift, ride. It was the months between April and November 2009 that she found unbearable. That delay also happened to contribute enormously to her dying of her cancer; but it also ate away like acid at her nerves and patience even before she knew she was going to die.
And she never complained about dying. She sure as hell complained about having to wait so long for it, though.
I have been slogging grimly through the Slough of Despond these past several months, waiting to see what (if anything) was going to be done about my deteriorating vision. The first specialist referral admitted I had cataracts, but dismissed my problems as due to dry eyes – and guess what, artificial tears do SQUAT for cataracts. I bitched loudly to my doctor, and got a new referral; I saw that doctor today. And lo! Salvation heaves upon my horizon and I can almost see it!
My new ophthalmologist is a spritely little brownie of a lady, whom I suspect is going to have to stand on a box to reach my eyes. But she is all set to do it, so now I am just waiting for the surgery manager to call me with the possible dates. I am promised a call back within a week or two. The surgery itself is brief, the healing time, ditto. My eyes are too bad to hope for life without glasses, but my vision will be better than it has been in years. No more pain! No more auras, no more double vision, no more faded colour, no more light aversion!
I am so happy, I am manic. I laughed and joked all the way home frm the doctor’s office. The project is finally in train, I am assured this will happen, and my horrid wait is almost over!
Due to pupil dilation and such, though, typing is a pain tonight. If you can read this at all, Dear Readers, it will be because Kimberly not only got me to and from the eye doctor, she has edited this blog. So I must ask your indulgence, because aside from this brief and happy notice, I am signing off the computer for the evening now.
Oh, frabjous day!