Sight . . .
what a precious gift.
I was in 3rd grade,
Mrs. Stanley moved me
from in front of her desk
to the back off the room.
(I carried on
a conversation with her
whether she answered
or not.)
I told Mom
I was having
a hard time seeing
from my new seat.
She & Mrs. Stanley
thought I just wanted back
in the front so I could
talk to her.
Finally,
Mom takes me
to the opthamologist
and lo,
and behold,
I needed glasses.
LOVED THEM!
I can remember
how amazed I was
at what I had been missing.
My eyes continually
got worse.
My brother found me
on the sofa,
one day,
crying.
I can still picture this event.
I told him I was afraid
of going blind.
He blew it off,
probably said I was crazy,
and went out of the room.
But,
when my eyes were changing
so fast,
it scared me.
My lenses were always thick,
so I figured blindness
was in my future.
Two years ago,
the opthamologist we go to
asked me if I knew I had
cataracts?
I did know
and asked him
how bad they were.
He told me their size,
which didn't mean a thing,
but when he said,
but when he said,
"If you were my sister,
I'd tell you to get them removed"
I made my decision
on the spot.
I made my decision
on the spot.
So on Feb 7,
I had the cataract
in the left eye
removed.
(I actually saw him
washing my eye
and the needle
coming toward me.
Then, the drugs took hold
and I was asleep.)
The next day
the patch came off
I actually saw "white" again.
I hadn't realized
how cloudy
my sight had gotten.
Feb. 14,
right eye done,
no more glasses
for the 1st time in
47 (+/-) years.
The lens implants
are so wonderful . .
but I am still
not used to seeing myself
without glasses . . .
I think I have a "glasses" face.
Dear Lord,
Thank You for my sight. Of all my senses, I treasure this one most . . . the fear of losing it made it more dear to me.
Thank You for allowing science to advance far enough to provide lenses all those years to allow me to see clearly.
Thank You for the advances made in medicine that
allows me to see clearer than I have in years.
Thank You for Dr. Sidlecki's skills as a surgeon.
Amen.
(1300)
