For me, that was a major blow, not only because I am a programmer, but only 2 weeks before the whole ordeal started, I left my job to start my own company. It was the first time ever in my life that I had to accept that not only did I need help, but I was at the mercy of others. It also made me stop and rethink everything. At some point in my life, I may go blind. At some point in my life, the disease will begin to affect other organs in my body. What will I do for work? My career would be over, I wouldn’t even be able to telecommute. I had to rethink everything.

I am in a better spot that I was 2 years ago. I still have really bad days where my eyes need to be kept dilated to ease the pain, but it’s something that I will need to deal with the rest of my life. It’s something that won’t let me forget and has “opened my eyes” (pun intended) to a lot of things in life.

In some ways, I think most people at some point goes through something like this. Something that makes them put everything in perspective that has real consequences that will never go away. Something that cannot be taken back. A scar on your psyche that if you learn to live with can help you grow in more ways that anyone could have imagined. A scar physically as a reminder so you will never forget.

P.S. Why is it that the year I decide to get my motorcycle license, I have two of my friends get into serious accidents.

The Dude

I just keep telling myself that this isn’t forever. And when this is done and over, I’ll be back and better than before. I’ll be Bionic Sabre

It sucks being helpless. Your story is uncovering some very deep, unaddressed scars of my own. Not just where they had to hack me open and I had to carry around a bag for two weeks to drain the last of the poison out of me. But also the poison that didn’t come out of my heart and head.

I have such a deep-seated fear of something like that happening again. And it kills me that it’s your experience now, too.

I hate your new living arrangement. But if there’s a blessing to be had, it’s that you are somewhere safe and populated, as I know the alternative right now. I’d love to say not to let this get you down, but it’s a vacation that’s so very not on your terms.

I know you’ll come through this. If there’s anyone who can, it’s you. I just don’t want you to lose your spunk the way I did, because I realized that choosing to go through this world pretty much alone meant that I was very much alone when I could have picked up the phone for company, advocacy, sanity or maybe a little assistance and I really didn’t feel like I had anyone to call because they didn’t owe me crap.