{"id":4502,"date":"2012-11-01T20:13:43","date_gmt":"2012-11-02T01:13:43","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.silkentent.com\/Trees\/?p=4502"},"modified":"2012-12-02T23:53:41","modified_gmt":"2012-12-03T04:53:41","slug":"rebooting","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.silkentent.com\/Trees\/?p=4502","title":{"rendered":"Rebooting"},"content":{"rendered":"

November 1, 2012
\nThurs<\/strong>day<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Life is a series of reboots<\/em>.<\/em><\/span>
\n \u00e2\u20ac\u201d Katie Couric, b. 1957<\/span>
\n American journalist and author<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>This post has been in draft since September 17, when it was called “Tashlich,” in honor of the Jewish practice at Rosh Hashana (the New Year) of casting bread into the water, symbolically casting off the previous year’s sins and failures and beginning again. I did go down to the river that day, to the boat launch near my studio, with a hunk of bread. I was then two weeks into my “Fall Term,” my plan of reading and writing and otherwise conducting my life that follows the academic calendar.\u00c2\u00a0I’d set\u00c2\u00a0some modest\u00c2\u00a0goals for the period between Labor Day and Thanksgiving, including writing a discovery draft of the novel I\u00c2\u00a0got so excited about in\u00c2\u00a0the summer, \u00c2\u00a0I’d gotten off course, not an uncommon occurrence, but only a little, and I was determined to begin again.<\/span><\/p>\n

That day that I stood by the water and floated bread downstream to carry my regret and my hopes, I did not know that the next six weeks would present challenges and disruptions that would throw off even people more determined and focused than I. Briefly, my husband, Ron, underwent cataract surgery, the first eye on September 11, and the second eye on September 18. What should have been a set of simple procedures with a recovery time of two or three days became instead an ongoing ordeal. The surgery uncovered the fact that Ron has Fuchs’ dystrophy<\/a>, a rare, progressive disorder in which\u00c2\u00a0some epithelial cells that act as a dehumidifier for the cornea fail, and deposits build up. (Imagine your car windows in winter if you don’t run the AC along with the heater.) It was the trauma of the cataract surgery that sent the Fuchs’ into high gear. In essence, the cataract surgery was successful, but a new problem, one less easy to correct, was created.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ron will now require a cornea transplant in each eye. Because these are cadaver tissues, he will have to take anti-rejection\u00c2\u00a0measures (steroids delivered in eye drops)\u00c2\u00a0for the rest of his life. The first transplant was performed last week, but initially failed and had to be redone. Recovery is progressing at the normal rate, but that is very very slow. He can’t see well enough to drive, his eyes are\u00c2\u00a0extremely sensitive to light, he can’t read the paper or the computer screen. In other words, his normal life is gone, replaced by a “new normal” in which he needs me to drive him places, tell him what the score is (he can see the football action on the television, but can’t tell what down it is and how much time is left), and accompany him to appointments to take notes. In addition, a routine EKG required by the anesthesiologists before surgery revealed that he has had some kind of “heart event.” Although he was cleared for the surgery at minimal risk, more tests for the cardiac problems\u00c2\u00a0are scheduled for next week.<\/span><\/p>\n

Today seemed like a good day to draw a line and begin again. I live in central Pennsylvania, where we had minimal damage and disruption from Hurricane Sandy. We were without power for a little more than an hour on Monday night, and though there is a lot of debris from twigs and leaves, we lost nothing. The friends and relatives we have in the places most affected are safe. As the role of caregiver goes, the demands on me are minimal, consisting mostly of being available to drive Ron the places he needs to go, administering eye drops, reading the sports page, aloud,\u00c2\u00a0more extensively than I have ever done before, and trying to keep Ron’s spirits up. I’m probably doing the best with the driving and the sports page.\u00c2\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I missed two months of news and observations about my lovely life. I missed Lynn’s birthday. She’s 27 now. I missed Halloween. In the past I wrote about the Halloweens of Lynn’s growing-up years, the costumes I made, the fun we had. I posted pictures of her as a pumpkin, a California raisin, Minnie Mouse, and, twice (at 8 and at 18), as Dorothy of Oz. She created her own look this year, as Zombie Snow White. I have a picture of that, and of her coworkers as other zombie Disney princesses, but I’m not going to post that. Instead, here she is in a picture taken in June. That’s Matt with her. They’re getting married in June. I have a lot of living to do.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n


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