It's Not All Fun and Games

Here's a copy of my Worldle screen for today (If you want to play the game today, don't read any further just now, or skip down to past the row of asterisks).  I didn't consult a map before I made the first guess. I have no idea how I thought to guess Gabon.  I didn't have any idea where it was except that I knew it was in Africa.  I can only assume that something filtered into my subconscious brain some time when I was looking at a map. Then I apparently didn't read the arrow right, although I knew that I was close, so I looked in the wrong place on the map to find the mystery country.  After that guess was wrong too, I figured out my misreading of the first arrow, and promptly found the identity of the mystery country--immediately adjacent to my first guess.  

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My vision this morning seems to be particularly compromised.  I had a hard time deciphering my 12-point Times New Roman notes that I had printed out earlier in preparation for teaching Sunday School class for tomorrow (Genesis 33).  

Yesterday, I noticed also that I was missing a lot outdoors that was visible to my grandchildren.  We walked along the road west of our place to pick up trash in the ditches, and we had agreed beforehand that for safety's sake, any time someone saw a vehicle on the road, they would call out "car" so that everyone could stay off the road.  Most of those times when I heard "car" I couldn't see it until it got much closer.  It's fair to say that the vehicles were probably more than a mile distant when they were first spotted, so there was no immediate danger to anyone.

I know something about what's going on with my vision.  I also know that it's not likely to improve until after April 28.  The problem right now is mainly an After Cataract--something I didn't even know about till several weeks ago. 

On January 17 I had cataract surgery in my right eye.  Almost immediately I noticed that colors were markedly brighter (less grayed) when I viewed the world only through my right eye.  That is no longer the case.  

When I went for a follow up visit one week after surgery, the doctor told me that I was seeing better from my right eye without glasses than I had been seeing with glasses before surgery.  That was good news.  He also told me that because I still had a bit of extra fluid in my eye, my vision should continue to improve as it dissipates.  This fluid would naturally build up during the night, so morning vision would be worse than later in the day.  

Several weeks later, however, when I went to my optometrist to be fitted for new glasses, I heard disappointing news.  My vision was poor in the eye with the new lens.  He did some extra testing and confirmed that my retina was in good shape, so that wasn't the problem--fortunately. Then he explained what the problem was.  First, he told me that the lens actually is held in a bag that's transparent when it's healthy.  In my case, scar tissue had formed on this transparent bag, and the cloudiness is not allowing a clear image to reach the lens inside the bag.  This happens in about 30% of people who have cataract surgery, but it doesn't nearly always happen right away.  Sometimes it takes as much as ten years to develop.  No one seems to know why or how this sometimes happens.

The fix is comparatively simple--from a patient perspective, that is.  That's a relief.  A laser is used to drill a hole through the cloudy bag, thus removing the obstruction to a clear image.  No surgery, no anesthesia, and no eye drops are needed.  The biggest inconvenience is that this procedure can not be performed until at least three months after the initial surgery--probably to make sure that all the scar tissue that will form has already done so.  Getting it scheduled was complicated by the fact that the surgeon's main office is in Wichita, and he has only a few days a month when he comes to Hutchinson.  I wanted to see him in Hutchinson.

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Picking up trash along the road is not a great way to gain confidence that humanity is on a good path.  Besides the general irresponsibility in evidence when fast food containers are thrown out of moving vehicles, a lot of the trash is related to vices such as consumption of alcohol (while driving, almost certainly) and use of cigarettes.  I don't know under what conditions cigarette butts were discarded, but thinking of the damage that could result if a fire started in the ditch gives me the shivers.  We have cedar trees on our property beside the ditch, and if a fire ever reached the trees, they would explode into an instant inferno. Right now we're under a red flag warning for extreme grassland fire danger.   

Picking up trash was probably a bit of a stretch to qualify as a nature walk, but it did provide an abundance of exercise and fresh air--both of them in almost overwhelming amounts.  The wind was "not cooperating," as 4-year-old Ryker put it diplomatically.  We all knew that wind speeds were expected to be in the low twenties (MPH), with gusts to 35, and we knew that we would be entirely exposed to all of it. It sounded doable though, so we went ahead with the plan. After we got home, a gust to 50 MPH was reported nearby, and the sustained speed clocked in at 35 MPH.  No wonder we had trouble hanging onto our trash bags, and some of the children had trouble staying upright.  

We sorted the trash into three categories, with the items in two categories going straight into trash bins for those purposes.  One bin was for recyclables, and the other was for trash that cannot be reclaimed.  The third category was for things we could get money for.  The aluminum cans went into that category.  I believe that this exercise counts as a useful life lesson, and it might result in a bit of extra cash in a child's pocket.  I also hope it cures any litterbug tendencies that might surface otherwise.  

Before we set out, we decided to look for blue sky (the forecast had predicted clearing skies), animal signs, live animals of any kind, any green plants, and dead grass vegetation that had a color other than tan.  I had noticed earlier that the native grasses, even in midwinter, when mowed short, retain their reddish colors (from orange to purple) throughout the winter, so we noticed that as we walked along.  We saw a surprising number of green shoots, often at the base of plants that were still mostly dead-looking on top.  Wyatt found some multicolored leaves--bright red on the tips and bright green nearer the base--possibly Dock.  He also found some delightfully ferny vegetation--maybe  some kind of mustard or yarrow.  Overhead we saw blackbirds.  Big holes dug at the top of the ditch banks suggested the presence of badgers or possibly coyotes.  Wyatt also reported seeing two rabbits and a covey of quail after we got back.  I believe him.  I saw that covey the day before, and I often see rabbits.

Dorcas provided a support vehicle for our trash pickup.  She pulled into the spaced-out field driveways along the 2/3-mile route (twice that to the corner and back), and we dropped off our bags when we reached the vehicle.  Also, any children who needed a break could drop out temporarily, and rejoin us later.  She did take a few minutes to go on a drive so Autumn could fall asleep in her car seat.  Tristan and Ryker, the oldest and youngest of the walkers were the only ones that never took a break.  All of them were real troopers though.  

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The fundraiser last night was a rousing success, with good food (chipotle bowls and homemade ice cream), a lively auction of many desirable items, lots of good community vibes, etc.  I don't think I've ever seen the Pleasantview Activity Center (PAC) so crowded; people paid far more than market value for most items. I was happy to be there and to make my small contribution.  I even gave a second small donation in honor of my brother Anthony, who had a birthday yesterday.  I was happy to be able to do that too.  To think that several free vaccinations might have necessitated missing out on all those good things last night . . .  I know that it's not kosher to "go there," but I'm doing it anyway here, believing that it's reasonable to evaluate the risk/benefit ratios of the choices we make.  Doing so requires clear-eyed attention to realities as they unfold.  All the good things happening last night were preceded by 12 weeks of hospitalization involving a lot of suffering, uncertainty, travel (when family was allowed to visit for "final goodbyes"),  and expense, plus ongoing health limitations.  It would have been good to miss out on all those not-so-good things. From this vantage point, it feels really good though to rejoice with those who rejoice, and to leave off the weeping with those who weep.