is the process of getting my detached retina re-attached. Nuts! Why is it that when one's life is about as full as it can get, something often comes along to upset all the best-laid plans and make it very clear that one is NOT indispensable, that there are higher priorities than, for example, finishing the sermon or going to the Pete dress rehearsal or having a cup of coffee in the morning.
I'd noticed, late last week and a little too late in the week to contact my optometrist, that the vision in my left eye was a little odd---it seemed like a major floater had lodged itself in the left lower corner and rose and fell as I raised and lowered my sight line. Now I have had many floaters in the past few years (you know, those little specks that come and go in one's vision) and they've never been this troublesome, so I was aware that I didn't want to let this go.
So Monday first thing I called my eye guy and made an appointment for Tuesday afternoon (since I had all these very pressing things I just had to do, as if life was normal!). He did an exam and said, basically, yep, detached retina, medical emergency, I'm making you an appointment with the retina guys in Seattle.
Dang! Rats! Crumb! and all the expletives that I would prefer not to put out there in print. But what about my Trilogy rehearsal last night? what about the Pete rehearsal tonight? what about the sermon? what about the meetings I have scheduled for Thursday? what about my life? Dang! Rats! Crumb!
Feeling very sorry for myself, I called friend Carol (who is also a parishioner but one of those folks you feel you can call on in personal emergencies and is more than "just" a parishioner, since I've known her longer than others) and whined into the phone, "I have an emergency, can you help?" and, of course, Carol being Carol said "you got it, no problem, let's leave on the 8:30 a.m. ferry".
So I am up early---without any coffee or food, just in case they have to do more than just laser surgery---still feeling sorry for myself but with a more realistic attitude. That is to say, I am not indispensable and others can pick up the slack. A retinal detachment is not the end of the world nor of my vision unless it doesn't get taken care of in time. The treatments are not bad, and there are several possibilities, the worst possibility being having to keep my head in a particular position for days, in which case someone else may have to preach on Sunday.
I think I've notified the necessary people of the situation, particularly the FS who was properly sympathetic but full of his exciting June trip with family to Switzerland and the sister who had her own concerns about family members in a pickle. So we swapped joys and concerns and I felt better after talking with them.
Somebody else will have to take care of all the things I have to let go of right now, including Pete tickets and posters. I will be back in the swim when I can, humbled by my new knowledge!
MAX UPDATE: my lovely neighbor Susan left me a voice mail last night while I was gone (yes, I did go to the Trilogy rehearsal) asking if I would please consider getting Max a collar with a bell on it to warn the birds at her feeder, as he is lying in wait and bringing them down and hauling them off. Poor Susan, a bird lover, is distraught and I don't blame her. I am definitely going to try this as a solution but if it doesn't work, I may have to find Max a home where he can be a professional hunter. He's too hard on the wildlife here. I don't know if the bell will work, but it's worth a try.