Getting Back Out There
Last Friday, I left my doctor’s office in shock. He told me that I was seeing 20/20 with glasses, and my pressure had normalized, too. He also confirmed I wouldn’t need to go back into surgery again to fix the valve — it seemed to be working now. When I asked him when I should come back for my next visit, he told me to return in a month.
Since June, I’ve been seeing him every few days. But my eyes were now better enough that he thought I could go a whole month on my own. While sometimes I find it hard to believe doctors when they give me good news, I could believe him this time because I could really feel it. My eyes weren’t in pain anymore. I was going off more medications and able to manage it.
I left the appointment, and took a walk through Central Park. It was one of those beautiful, perfect fall days where everyone is outside, and there is someone playing music every 10 feet no matter how hard you try to escape. But as I absorbed the news that I was really getting better, I felt overwhelmed. Of course, I was grateful and happy that I was improving. But I was also terrified. I still am.
I suppose it feels like I’ve in this crisis-survival mode for four months straight, and now suddenly, I’m just supposed to act…normal? The strange part is that of course, I want things to be normal. More than anything. Over the past few months I have been dreaming about just this— taking a dumb walk through the park, getting a coffee, seeing a friend. Doing things that seem simple, but make a person feel sane. Only, the suddenness of it all caught me by surprise. Maybe because it feels like I’ve been at war, and now my doctor is telling me I can just put down my dagger and go. It’s the transition that’s difficult to comprehend, but also the feeling that maybe I’ve changed through all this, too.
In trying to interact with the world again this past week, it’s sort of been like coming out of a pandemic hole all over again and rejoining society. I feel a bit like an alien. A real thought I had the other day was— “What kinds of shoes are people wearing again?” I feel uncomfortable having to answer small talk questions like, “What’s new in your life?” because I’m not sure where to start. Walking through the park and looking around at all the people, I just thought, “Man, everyone has been doing this the whole time. Just living their lives.” And it feels like I’m only catching up.
But before I put too much pressure on myself for this time lost, I wanted to appreciate all the things I was able to do in these past two weeks that I haven’t been able to do in the past four months, so here is my Mini-List of Victories:
I went to a museum
I went to the movie theatre AND I didn’t need to sit in the front row. I could just bring my glasses and sit perfectly halfway. I even watched Don’t Worry Darling and was so excited to be there that guys, you know what, I loved it. The trick is to not think about any plot holes afterwards and just be amped to be in the theatre, and wow, it really is a movie movie!
I went to a party and saw friends in a setting that wasn’t my home!
I went on a date!
A turtle swam up to me in Central Park and it caused a whole scene. A crowd of tourists was staring and going, “Wow, he really likes you.” One man even took him back in the water cause he thought he was too dry, and then Frank (the turtle) swam directly right back to me! A love story for the ages.
I was able to eat full meals and not just fruit / boiled chicken 🤙
I exercised and remembered what endorphins felt like!
Do you remember that part about the turtle?
I guess all these things sound simple and a bit silly, but writing them out, I feel really proud. I wasn’t able to do any of this for so long, and now, slowly, I’m getting stronger. I’m not totally there yet- I don’t think I will be for another month or so. My eye pressure still needs time to settle, and I don’t have as much energy as I used to. But sometimes once I’m in a better place, it’s easy to forget where I was because I’m so happy to move on. And then all I need to do is think about how bad things were, or how I was struggling only a few weeks ago, and I’m filled with gratitude that I can find joy in these simple acts.
Last time, after my surgeries, it felt different. I threw myself into activities I had been kept from because of my health, but it felt empty. Like going through the motions. I think it feels different this time around because every small moment where I’m healthy and able to live my life a little bit more is overwhelming. I keep telling myself “I can’t believe I get to do this again.”
I want to hold onto this feeling, of being immensely grateful just to do simple acts, to find joy in the everyday. I think I can get caught up very easily in always wanting more, and never feeling like I’m doing enough. But for now, just existing and taking things day by day feels okay.
Anyway, in non-medical news, for my latest ridiculous Oreo gift, I present to you this bandana I received with my floating face on it.
Oh, and here is a piece I wrote for the New Yorker yesterday, “wikiHows That Hit Too Close Too Home,” with Ginny Hogan!
Thank you, as always, for reading!
Love,
Julia