Hello Darling Ones,

Two letters in two days? Count your lucky stars!

I wanted to write today because it’s Eye Day and I want to bellyache about it.

There are a lot of really great things about Eye Day. Namely, not losing my entire sight to macular edema and diabetic retinopathy. That’s not even exaggeration for humor’s sake. That’s the actual, factual truth. Without this treatment I will go blind.

Another good thing about Eye Day? The security guy who works at the building the Retina Consultants of Minnesota is in. Sister #4 & I love this guy. A few months ago he met us at the door with a wheelchair.

Usually, Sister #4 drives because my mom hates 494, and drops her off at the entrance. Mom then hauls ass upstairs to get a wheelchair for me, and brings it down. While I could lurch up there with my walker, coming down after the shots is scary because they wipe out my vision.

So back in like October when he met us at the door with the chair, saying, “I saw your name on the schedule and thought this would help.”

Sister #4 & I were instantly smitten. We are convinced he has a crush on my mom. Sometimes he even rides up in the elevator with us and they discuss the weather.

“Is he gonna be our new dad?” I tease my mom, who is done with men after my dad (he died in 2021).
“I’m calling him Dad,” my sister said. “I hope he doesn’t mind.”

Even though what happens at the Retina Consultants’ office sucks, they are top-notch pros. A well-oiled, perfectly choreographed ballet. Every time is the same. I wait in the main waiting room until I’m called back for eyes tests. Then Waiting Room B until I’m called for scans, and then back to it until Dr. D is ready to see me.

Seeing this in action is much cooler and impressive than I’m making it out to be. Waiting Room B is primo, chef’s kiss eavesdropping territory. Today featured a bitter women who believed “the left infiltrated healthcare and is poisoning all the babies.” She was bitter because she was dumped for not being vaxxed. She’d never even been tested for COVID she bragged to the woman next to her. She claimed the man was no big loss. “He’s forty-five and divorced,” she said. “He never even had kids. Just dogs.”

I should have asked her for his phone number. He sounds good to me.

Despite all this, Eye Day sucks because once I get the treatment my vision is super garbage for the rest of the day. I spend the day with achey eyes that feel super full, which they are because of the medicine injected into them. But the worst part is it washes out everything. I spend the day feeling like I’m looking through a thick grey fog that doesn’t clear until I get up the next day.

Plus, there’s tiny floaters which I can see pretty clearly. So not only does everything look fuzzy, I keep jerking my head convinced there’s a fly in my house.

It also sucks, because I hate using the wheelchair. It makes me feel lazy and like I’m in the way. It’s such a shitty ablelist thing. I have never seen another person in a wheelchair and thought such things, but when it’s me it’s somehow different?

[[[[[[gt;yh <---- That's what Mortimer had to say. Anyway, Dr. D said it was normal for me to have a tough time seeing despite the new glasses. When I said the distortion was more noticeable now that things are clearer he shook his head in agreement. "That's why we keep doing this," he said. So that's eye day. Zero fun. 100% worth it. Love, Jodi