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Hank was unaware of the consequences. The answer came as a shock. He was recovering from surgery and thought this symptom was just part of the process.
Two weeks later he returned to the specialist surgeon and asked about the black line. The doctor looked concerned and expanded his examination, then he delivered the devastating news. The black line wasn't due to the surgery, it was because of pressure. It wasn't going to go away. It would never get better. It was a permanent blind spot, a permanent loss of vision.
My brother felt kicked in the gut. He had taken care of his eyes. The cataract was annoying so he had had it removed to improve his long range sight. Yet now there was another problem. This problem couldn't be fixed. There wasn't a surgery to correct it. He had glaucoma. There were eye drops to keep the condition from getting worse. He would have to use the two eye drops every day for the rest of his life.
There is so much more of life he wants to see clearly. He enjoys the flashing eyes of his granddaughter. He likes to hunt small game. He loves long hikes on rugged trails. He looks forward to vacation and hopes to see the Northern Lights.
Henry John is our family chef. We all enjoy the appetizing meals he makes for small groups. He is especially creative with edible garnishes. We all wonder if these things will be curtailed.
He has proven what he is made of, again. He is flexible and resilient. He is coping.
Hank is spending more time with the grandkids. He photographs majestic trees and unique flowers. He gazes at the stars. He is banking these memories in his mind's eye against the possibility of the spreading blackness.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
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