When Life Gives You Lemonade
One of the interesting things about living at my house is the invisible, unspoken No Whining Rule. I’m not saying it’s impossible for me to whine. (Ask anyone.) It just achieves no satisfaction. Maybe an arched eyebrow.
When your wife survives multiple primary cancers like some kind of superwoman, it kind of takes the whine out of your sails. So, when I managed to sneeze the retina off the back of my eye this week, I was forced to try and man up.
It was a mighty effort. I’m just sayin’.
Thanks to the skill and patience of some wonderful doctors, I’m going to be fine. But my right eye has a gas bubble in it for the next couple of weeks. And it looks like it’s filled with golden electric jello. Or maybe iced lemonade. Or Tropical Pineapple Jello. That’s a thing, right?
All in all, it’s a happy color. And thankfully temporary. So, I’m just going to enjoy it. After all, I could have been looking at the world through a blue jello filter for two weeks. Or teal.
Or taupe. Whatever that is.
Since it’s hard to focus, I’m laying off the book for a bit. And TV. My current solution is catching up on podcasts. Ahh. That works.
The worst part is having to lie on my right side. On the couch. Instead of working. Ouch.
I’ll be back to work and writing as soon as possible. In the meantime, thank you all so much for your prayers. I’m very grateful. May your day be blessed and your vision clear.