Yesterday I had surgery to correct ptosis of the eyelids, an inherited trait that impinges on my vision. Being terminally optimistic, I’ve underestimated the down time. “Two days of assiduous icing and I’ll be right as rain. In the meantime, I’ll stay in bed and read,” I thought. I didn’t count on my eyes being swollen shut. Don’t send me anything with fine print today; I can only see vague shapes.
Like most people, I’ve speculated on the impact of being suddenly disabled, losing either the use of a limb or a sense. I have a deaf friend who negotiates the world wonderfully; he even swing dances. I think it would be more difficult to get around without one’s vision. Today, I’m awfully grateful for the gift of sight.
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