I called the doctor today to ask about the tearing and blurred vision. He suggested that I monitor it for a couple of days and asked if the tears were colored or were just tears. They're just tears. He felt that I am probably just experiencing a normal part of the healing process but acknowledged my concern about failing to report something that was a legitimate concern.
The tearing has stopped, and the vision has fluctuated back in a positive direction. I'm feeling a little more relieved about that. I'm trying not to stare into the lights or check to see ifI can see every little thing. It is definitely an exercise in patience!
I did some reading on the Internet about corneal transplants last night. I was fascinated to learn about the healing process. Stitches don't usually come out for six to seventeen months, and the complete healing process takes at least a year. Rejection can occur within one to five years. The thought struck me that my healing process is even more involved because of two things. I have had another procedure done along with this transplant, and my eye is fragile in the first place. I could not find anything about recovery from vitrectomy. Nor could I find anything about adjusting to the restoration of sight. I suppose it's not such a common experience, and I also suppose that it will differ for everyone. But it would be nice to know that I am not alone in spite of the fact that I may not have regained much in the grand scheme of things.
I am also thinking how special it is that this has happened at this time of year. Tonight and tomorrow my family will be opening all kinds of gifts. My favorite gift will be getting opened for a long time. Mom said last night that she was feeling kind of sad that life just went on for the rest of the family and that I had not "had my moment". I told her about this journal. "I'm having my moment in my own way, and someday people will read it."
To tell the truth, I don't know what I would do if given a moment to "have". There are no words to express how I feel about this. It's not an experience I can share with someone, even though I want to. So many things make it special to me: the fact that I did regain something which cannot be completely understood for another few months, the fact that all of the financial resources were in place, the fact that at the last minute I decided to move to Indiana with my parents and that if I had stayed in East Texas there would be no specialists in the town where I was living to do either of the procedures, the opportunity to have been in the care of one of the most knowledgeable and well-respected researchers in the area of my particular eye condition... I don't suppose I need to go on. My happiness is too deep to describe--too deep even for tears. Besides, I'm not sure crying is the greatest idea at the moment.