Less than a week ago, I underwent eye surgery to remove a cataract I’d had since birth in my right eye.
In the lead up to the surgery, I was completely focused on the risks associated with the surgery: that I’d end up with no sight at all in my right eye or – even worse – that my ‘good’ left eye would be damaged.
Despite there only being a 1% chance of being left blind, this was enough to have me freaked out. What if I never saw my children or husband again? What if I had to give up a job I loved to stay at home – blind? What if I had to live in a bleak, dark world for the rest of my life?
I got so caught up worrying about the surgery, that I completely forgot to hope – or pray – for a miracle. When friends and family told me they were praying for my eye to be healed, I told them my surgeon said it was impossible to get sight back in that eye. Apparently if you can’t see out of one eye for long enough, your brain ‘switches off’ sight to that eye.
And yet, a miracle is exactly what I got. To the surgeon’s surprise, when my bandages were removed I could see out of my right eye for the first time ever! Five days later, I’m still in shock that I’m no longer blind in one eye.
This ‘miracle’ got me thinking… since I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, have I ever really believed that one day I could be healed of it? I’m not talking about stopping my medication to follow some unproven theory. But what if – in the years ahead – researchers somewhere discover the cause behind bipolar disorder or a permanent ‘cure’ for the condition?
Like my attitude before my eye surgery, I’ve never allowed myself to even think of what it would be like to be cured of bipolar disorder. No longer having to rely on daily medication, with annoying side-effects. No longer at risk of going too ‘high’ or ‘low’. No longer having to declare my condition on insurance or work forms. And – most importantly – no longer having to worry if I will pass this condition on to my children.
When you’ve lived with a condition for a long time, you tend to resign yourself to the fact that you’re always going to have it. I know I never expected to see out of my right eye again. If I’m honest – I don’t expect to ever be ‘cured’ of bipolar disorder.
And yet, it’s important to keep hoping for a cure… to keep urging the medical community to continue looking for answers and to keep praying for a miracle for the hundreds of thousands of people impacted by this condition.
5 thoughts on “An unexpected miracle”
WONDERFUL WONDERFUL news!!!!!!! So happy for you! I’ve written about how I believe there could be a cure for bipolar disorder in our lifetime. Why not??? :))) There’s a ton of research happening around the world…it’s lovely to think it can happen. Anyway, I was thrilled to read this fabulous news about you today. Have a wonderful weekend! :)) Dyane
I’m so excited about this that I will reblog it tomorrow – I hope that’s okay with you! I rarely reblog posts, but this one is so juicy I can’t help it!
Reblogged this on Birth of a New Brain and commented:
Happy Monday Everyone!
I’ve only reblogged a handful of times. I have a point of pride (some may call it stubbornness or neuroticism) where I wish to be the primary author of my blog posts all the time. But today I’m going to have my hands full because we are on the cusp of adding a very, very, VERY-much wanted little Sheltie mix pup into our home.
Honestly, I feel a little bit like the way I felt before having my two babies! I’m taking this puppy business very seriously. In my early twenties I adopted two glorious puppies who I loved for fifteen years. One of these dogs, my Sheltie/wolf mix Tara, was in our wedding as our flower “beast”. She looked resplendent with a gorgeous calla lily corsage and loved ll the attention. My other dog Shera, an fluffy white American Eskimo, also attended our wedding. She “danced” with some of us after the ceremony. (Her breed is known for producing show dogs and they used to perform in circuses. “Eskies” are energetic, bouncy balls of joy and they truly love the attention of a crowd.)
My dogs, who Craig adopted and loved with all his heart, accompanied us on our two-week-long honeymoon in Mammoth. We considered them to be family members – perhaps the most functional of all of us, and they didn’t even need therapy! And don’t even get me started on how I held each of them in my arms when they died…I’ve written about that topic before, and I can’t dwell on it for more than a moment without feeling my heart crack a little. We were lucky to have both dogs live until age fifteen, which was at the very top of their projected life spans.
It has been a few years since we had a dog in our home, and I know I’m going to have my hands full this morning with getting ready to care for our new, spunky little life. In light of this exciting change, I thought today might be a good time to reblog, especially (and this is the most important reason to reblog) because the post I read yesterday really inspired and moved me. It is a beautiful story about a true miracle.
I hope Mariska’s brief post will inspire and move you as well!
Don’t you love when others pray and have hope for you, even when you forget to? A hopeful post. I never thought about a cure for bipolar disorder but I suppose it’s possible.
Yes… it can be hard to believe in miracles these days. I still pray that by the time my children are teenagers there will be a better understanding of what causes bipolar disorder and other mental illnesses. xx