Sometime in February our daughter called to tell us her eye doctor had diagnosed her with detached retinas in both eyes. She needed surgery. Her left eye was worse than the right eye, and they considered it an emergency. She had no center vision in her left eye.
They made some referrals, and the referral made another referral, so that she ended going to a university hospital several hours from their home. Long story short, they did the surgery on the first eye the first week of March, and the second one two weeks later. They put a “buckle” in both eyes, but fortunately she didn’t need the “bubbles,” which is a very long and arduous recovery. Almost immediately she could see better, but it’s still a very long healing process. Initially she couldn’t lift anything over five pounds. She has been unable to drive since the first surgery, as her vision is so blurry it is akin to not wearing glasses before the surgery (she’s very nearsighted, which is most likely the risk factor causing the detachment). She is also warned not to strain her eyes.
She’s in college, has a family with two elementary aged children, and she still can’t drive.
What does this have to do with my metastatic breast cancer journey? Or traveling in an Airstream as full-timers? It connects to my story because we never know what might pop up along the way that can change the trajectory of our path. It could be a new lesion, or side-effect of the medication. It could be a break-down in something Airstream related. We just have to be willing to be flexible and go with the flow. That doesn’t come easy for a planner, but God’s still working on me!
The patient becomes the caregiver.
We were in Florida when we received the call, and we immediately started thinking about how we could help her. Should we leave immediately and fly up, or take the Airstream, or wait and see? We had plans to go back to Texas visiting capitol buildings along the way, attend some rallies (which were already paid for in non-refundable payments), check on the new house build, and stay in Texas until June or later depending on the progress of our house. How might this change those well-made plans? Sometimes, the cancer patient becomes the caregiver to someone in their family or circle of friends. It’s what we do. It’s called life.
We considered taking the trailer as we didn’t know how long she would need us, but the RV parks in this area have yet to turn on their water, due to freezing temperatures. Her husband decided to take off work until the beginning of April, so that gave us time to attend the rallies and find a place to settle in Texas. We booked flights and headed north to help her out once we got the Airstream settled in at a gated RV park in Montgomery. Tim had a work visit with a church, and it’s not too far from her, so that helped defray some of the costs. We really miss our home!
Aside, we are happy to have made the decision to purchase the Airstream Classic. It has a multiplex system that allows us to turn the A/C or Heat on and off as needed. It doesn’t have an “auto” feature (yet), so we have been checking the internal temperature and turning it on as needed.
Hanging out with Dad before he flies home.
We originally planned on flying back to Houston yesterday, but Elizabeth still doesn’t have new glasses so she can barely see. She needs a ride to the hospital for her follow-up consult now that Anthony is working. Tim has a biopsy scheduled for a spot on his nose that he has put off for way longer than needed, so he went back on the original flight. Getting him there was a bit of drama in itself, as we had a rental car from the airport three hours away and one of us would need a ride. Tim found a local guy who transports to the airport, and they had a nice chat all the way there. I stayed behind for another week and I’ll return the car when I get there. Logistics!
I was fortunate to get the exact same flight schedule at no additional charge. I can change the flight again if necessary, but that would require missing medicine (I didn’t bring enough to go past Monday), and rescheduling appointments at MD Anderson. At this point we are praying Elizabeth will have glasses on Friday so she can get used to them over the weekend and then I can head home the day after Easter. I took her to her local eye doctor who gave her a prescription. She will be able to see 20-20 out of her right eye with new glasses. That’s progress! Her left eye still has a ways to go.
Tomorrow we pack up the kids in the car rental and head to Iowa City for Elizabeth’s follow-up appointment with her surgeon; we hope to get her new glasses there. Iowa City has a same-day eyeglasses store in town that can make her a cheap, temporary pair until her vision settles and she can get a new more permanent prescription. That should be about three to six months from now, but at least she will be able to drive!
I’m sitting in her community college lobby as I type this, feeling a bit reminiscent of my own college days. I’m watching young students come and go while waiting for Elizabeth to attend two of her classes so I can once again be her seeing eye dog and chauffeur for lunch. I went with her to Bible study last week, which she attends on Wednesdays, and one of the students who goes to it just walked by and acknowledged me, asking if I would be there again today, saying that they enjoyed having me. That was a good feeling as I thought I added some depth to the room with some of my comments, but you never know how students will react.
Looking at illustrations in poetry books for children, in our hotel lobby.
I have enjoyed helping with her children’s literature class!
As I have been reading her book chapters and poetry aloud, typing what she dictates, and helping her finish assignments, I sometimes have to turn the screen away so she does’t squint and try to read what’s on the page. While her attitude is positive, she keeps saying, “I wish I could see,” usually with a laugh of frustration.
We never know how much we use our sight until we no longer have it. Don’t take it for granted. Holy Week, leading up to Easter, is a great time to remember to thank God every day for the ability to see, hear, walk, talk, and everything else He has given you for free. Especially remember the sacrifice of His one and only Son. His arms are stretched out for you. Can you see?
À la prochaine…hasta la próxima vez…until next time!