I was in Montreal for a few days last month, to re-energize and to enjoy the resplendent fall colours. On my first evening, quite suddenly, I started getting flashes out of the corner of my left eye, which, over the coming hours, morphed into a cascade of black dots and thick lines obscuring my vision. I tried not to panic and hoped I could sleep it off and it would all magically disappear by the morning. Of course, it did not. At 8am, while battling intrusive floaters, I fashioned an eye patch out of a hairband and ventured out to seek medical attention.
Of course, being in another city – and a French speaking one at that, I had no idea where to go. Fortunately, a kind local pharmacist directed me to a nearby hospital. I spent the whole of the morning and early afternoon in Emergency and at a busy ophthalmologist’s office, trying to communicate in ‘Franglais’ and to remain calm.
Though the situation was very scary and upsetting, apparently, the retinal hemorrhaging that was diagnosed was not that unusual (for my age) and there was little that could be done while I waited for the intense floaters to gradually dissipate in the coming months. I muddled through the remaining days of my trip with eyepatch and sunglasses in place and tried to enjoy myself as much as possible, gaining some relief from the evening’s darkness.
It was several weeks before I experienced any sign of improvement and the ability to use both eyes (though my vision is still somewhat impaired as I write this). During my recovery, spent largely on the sofa – I learned a number of valuable things.
First of all, the importance of allowing the body the time and space it needs to heal. I succumbed to the fatigue and headaches and gave up so many of my regular activities, like pickleball, piano and reading. It was depressing and hard but I had to give my eye the best chance of recovering.
When I did venture out, especially on public transit, I discovered just how challenging it is to navigate around the city with one eye and how little people are aware of one another. I could really empathize with the issues people with disabilities face on a regular basis, not just in physical barriers but in other people’s lack of awareness. It was a stark reminder about being more sensitive to one another’s’ needs.
I’ve also been in awe of the incredible medical innovations we have and how I just expect more and more these days that whatever condition I have, there will be something to ‘fix it’.
Mostly, of course, I’ve appreciated the incredible privilege of being able to see and how grateful I am for a faculty that allows me to engage with the world with discernment and joy. The first time I could safely venture out again on my bike into nature and properly see the birds was an incredible moment of reconnection and bliss.
It so often takes losing something and regaining it to appreciate it in its entirety, and the experience has literally opened my eyes to the gift of sight as one I will no longer ever take for granted.