My growing collection of eye shades that might one day find their way into a quilt.
Wednesday, July 9, my 16th eye treatment. To say that treatments 14 and 15 were not good is a textbook example of understatement. I’m accustomed to the roller coaster – at least as accustomed one can get with eyesight and emotions going up and down. Such is the nature of being in a clinical trial. My vision kept sliding down the mountain, though. The big black thumbprint in the center of my vision came back. Telephone poles curved like mountain roads. Letters ducked and danced. My emotional complexion plummeted. I withdrew. Tucked in. Hid.
I got up early on Treatment Day, did yoga, meditated by the falls, and just before we left, I did something I hadn’t done in two months: I posted on Instagram and Facebook asking for good thoughts, healing energy, prayers.
Four hours later my name was called, and I took my seat before the dreaded Snellen chart. Just the thought of that dreaded chart usually sends me into shallow breaths and glistening . . . sweat. It’s how every treatment begins – auditioning this lens then that lens then reading the letters out loud. It’s usually a slow, laborious process, as the letters become shy and duck out of sight in a game of hide and seek that I seldom win.
But that Wednesday . . . that 16th treatment . . . oh my goodness.
There was no glistening.
No shallow breathing.
No fidgeting.
I felt this delicious, multi-colored coat of calm and loving kindness wrap itself around me with arms and whispers and goodness from around the world. I read Mr. Snellen’s letters, and I read them with confidence and with speed.
Denise, my Main Handler came to fetch me, and when Julia told her about my confident reading – about my 19 NEW LETTERS* – they joined in my cheering and crying. There were tears of relief that this part of the treatment day’s events was over; gladness that I’d read 19 NEW LETTERS, and gratitude – oh my goodness, the deep, overflowing vat gratitude. How will I ever adequately thank y’all for creating that web, that hammock, that blanket, that coat of loving kindness? For now, all I can think to do is say “Thank you” for holding me in the best remedy ever . . .
. . . and ask if you’d mind doing an encore on Wednesday, August 5?
(*Important note: There’s no guarantee that those 19 letters will be visible on August 5, but they’re here now, and for now, we rejoice!)
I almost feel like I’ve been holding my breath, waiting for your results, Jeanne…….to scared to ask! Such GREAT NEWS…..and boy, don’t we all need that these days! I’m so thrilled for you, and hopeful that your trip back up that mountain will be steadier in the months ahead! PTL! Thank you God! <3
Oh Jeanne, that is the best news! My heart sank a little in the beginning of your posting but, by the time I got to the end, happy tears were falling! I’ve got August 5th my calendar and will be holding in love and light and healing prayers! Sending you big hugs 🤗.
I told you those eyes are special.
Jeanne I am over the moon thrilled!!! and yes a repeat performance is scheduled on my calendar — never be afraid to ask for the loving support of your fans — we’re all in there cheering for you
All we ever have is now; all we can give is this. Rejoicing and letting go of grasping, I relax my eyes and open my gaze. ♥️♥️♥️
Happy dance happy dance yipeeeeeeeee, fabulous news ,now for a repeat in August.
Such wonderful news, my friend! Sending you a huge hug!!!