Thin Air

So, things are still pretty much the same. I have begun to be able to read at least, though! Granted, I have to wear two pairs of reading glasses (one on top of the other), but at least I'm able to sit,and obtain information without having to listen to something or someone. Sometimes, you just want to sit in silence. Other times, It's nice to listen to a podcast, or a book on tCD, etc. I've also started watching a litle TV, particularly the travel channel. I haven't decided if this is cruel or helpful to myself yet. l-) Today, however, there was a show where this guy travelled to Peru. One of the places he visitied was Machu Picchu, I have seen pictures of it before. I think I've even seen a few tv specials on it, and verytime that I have, I have felt a huge draw to it. I have a very emotional response to that place, even though I have never even been in Central nor South America. If my lungs ever recover, Machu Picchu is one of the places I would definitely like to visit in my life.

Intuition

I think, intuition is the stuff you hear when you listen very, very carefully.

Cheers!

I've been working on it, and yesterday and today seem like they are finally showing something of an improvement for my breathing. I'm always hesitant to say that I'm having better breathing. I'm afraid to jinx the good fortune. But there are days like today and yesterday, when I finally feel something good, something stronger, something a little closer to life, and I can't help but want to share it with you. It's these moments when I feel like it's possible to live again and that my life is still worth fighting for.

This illness/battle/or whatever you want to call it, has truly been a test of my spirit. It has pushed me to the very, absolute end of my patience and my strength. The physical trials have been--and are--quite substantial, but it's the mental test of courage, strength, perseverance, and complete determination that have been particularly insane. I have learned a lot. About myself. About others. About life.

One of those things that I have learned, is that when something is going well, you've got to celebrate, because you never know what's around the corner. So, here's to a great beginning to a better, stronger, healthier, happier new year!

Mercy, Baby

Mercy has ben given to me today and I feel pretty damn good. My breathing feels a little more under control (I was actually able to do some yoga today--something I haven't been able to do for over a year and a half!!), my energy has been good, and I was able to read about 70% of a normal sized paragraph of a magazine (with the help of strong reading glasses and a magnifying glass). STILL.....I'll take it!!!!

If this is what my thirties are going to be like, I think I'm really going to like this decade. :-) (Cue up Annie singing, "I think I'm gonna like it here!")

Faith and hope

Lately, I've started watching that daytime show, The View, and I must say that I really like their segment called, "Hot Topics." Yesterday, they had a bit where Whoopie asked a guest if she still had hope that something was going to happen to her. Whoopie asked, "Is there a time when faith/hope becomes denial?" I pauseed my TiVo and thought about this. This is what has actually been bothering me lately. I've had this hope all along that my lungs are eventually going to get better and that I will get better, with only the occasional doubt that I won't. There are some of those lower days when I wonder if I'm just not accepting the fact that I will never recover and, in fact, it might only get worse. What keeps me going is the hope that I WILL get better, but obviously, I really don't know either way. At what point does hope become denial?

Here's looking at you, kid...

I have some GREAT news. My vision is improving!! We have confirmed objective measurements from my neuro-opthamologist that show an over 50% increase in my vision! I went from having 20/200 vision three weks ago to testing at 20/100 yesterday! YAYE! Also my visial field test showed a reduction in dimensions of the central blur spot as well as my color sensitivity tests are more accurate.. I am SO relieved that it is starting to heal up. I think it will still be at least a month before I can drive or read something (without the help of multiple tools), but HEY, I'll take it. I'm already jumping at the bit (that's the expression, right?) to get back to apinting. It's been so frustrating to not be able to produce anything during these past few months. Ralph says, to sketch them down so that I can paint them wehen I can see again, but the problem is, if I can't see to paint them, I also can't see enough to accurately sketch the concept for myself. :-/ So, I'm really looking forward to seeing again! (hehe...get it?)

Some improvement

Hello all...the situation is still pretty much the same. I still have a hard time breathing and seing. :-(( It's been a pretty low fall because of that. For a while there I was just waiting for the vision to come back. I spent most of my days sleeping the majority of the time, because I figured "What's the sense of getting up if I can't see what I'm doing anyway?"I think that is the most helpless and useless and hopeless that I have felt in my history of this illness. On top of that, Ralph and I picked up a cold, so that just made me even more tired. Fiinally, after going to my regular doctor appointment[ in a wheelchair(because my breathing was SO poor and I was so tired) I decided I have to fight again. Now, I am proud to say that I am nearly off the oxygen, I'm walking on the treadmill daily, and actually doing some painting. The painting is not of the beautiful kind, but more of functional, subjective testing for my eyes' conidition of the optic neuropathy. I started about three weeks ago, painting lines of 1 inch diameter circles on pages of a watercolor paper bock. I went at it with the goal of trying to track my visual acuity and color perception on a week by week basis. So far, there have only been three weeks' worth of circles, and I can't se too much of a difference (because I still can't focus around the giant blur spot in my central vision), but Ralph tells me that he can notice a change between them. I'll take that as a positive motion and hope that it only continues!