End Game

I've had little time to spare for lots of things recently, not least this blog. I had a spectacular floater in my right eye about six weeks ago, followed by black spots in my vision. Two visits to the Optometry Clinic at OSU gave the verdict of "vitreous detachment," which could be either the natural aging process or the beginning of a retinal detachment. I mentioned it to Dr. G, who asked that I come to the Cole Eye Institute. Dr. G's office made the appointment for me with an opthalmologist who has worked with other patients whose RCC metastasized in the eye.

Talk about sweating bullets! I watched my beloved former boss at my last job go through 3 surgeries for retinal detachment; I balanced that with the thought of RCC on the march. Fortunately Dr. S at the Cole confirmed there is no RCC involvement, so now I wait for another appointment at the end of this month to rule out retinal detachment. It's yet another time when aging, though not pretty, has its attractive side, given the alternatives.

Two weeks ago my ex-husband committed suicide at age 57. He'd threatened to do it many times during the 10 years we were married, and swore that he would make sure he didn't live past 50. Why he waited the additional years, I don't know; what made him do it, I don't know. I feel numb - it's like my life with him happened to someone else; and I'm full of regret for all the unrealized potential he carried within.

This morning my friend and sister M stopped by to let me know that her nephew succumbed to his lung cancer at 1:00 a.m. He entered hospice last week, wanting only to die at home. He was in so much pain that methadone and Roxanol hardly touched it; when his pain was finally controlled, he simply passed away in his sleep.

I know that's what I wish for - to die in peace, at home, in my sleep. Will I have the strength to achieve it?