Clear and cold, still

Lake Padden

One of my favorite spots in all of Bellingham is here, at Lake Padden. I've visited this spot dozens of times over the years, and it often looks and feels very different than this. Right now, during this cold snap, we don't have even a wisp of cloud in the sky, and it's been like that for many days now. I took this picture last year, on a clear and cold January day, much like today, but with a few clouds for interest.

Thanks to today's technology, I am receiving those dreaded eye jabs every other month, but it's possible that they are doing what they are supposed to do, slowing down the progression of my AMD (age-related macular degeneration). You might be getting tired of hearing about it, I know I sure am, but it's on my mind today because tomorrow I get another one. After the last one, I endured many days of floaters that were so bad that I felt like I was caught in a swarm of angry insects. I could only make it better by shutting my left eye and looking out at the world with my right eye. The problem did get better as time went on, but now that I am back to a semblance of normalcy, I am not looking forward at all to it happening again. One possible side effect of the shots is retinal detachment, which would be very concerning. The only sign that you might be having it is a sudden increase in floaters. If I do have it, the only treatment is laser surgery. Whee! Fun times, eh?

But I don't want to stop the shots, since they are the only way to keep my central vision from going away sooner than it otherwise would. I cannot read any longer with the right eye, since the central vision is gone, although the peripheral vision is still good. When it's gone from the left eye, it will be time to stop and just deal with what I've got left. I will no longer be able to write these posts, or read the ones I follow. There are some workarounds, but they require me to prevail upon my husband to help me improve what I can create by editing it, and that means the time frame for getting them done will have to be modified.

Nothing ever stays the same, and we deal with what we're dealt, right? I recently learned that Georgia O'Keeffe, the famous painter of gorgeous flowers, mainly, developed the condition long before she died. Here's how she coped:

By 1972, O'Keeffe had lost much of her eyesight due to macular degeneration, leaving her with only peripheral vision. She stopped oil painting without assistance in 1972. In 1973, O'Keeffe hired John Bruce "Juan" Hamilton as a live-in assistant and then a caretaker. Hamilton was a potter. Hamilton taught O'Keeffe to work with clay, encouraged her to resume painting despite her deteriorating eyesight, and helped her write her autobiography. He worked for her for 13 years. The artist's autobiography, Georgia O'Keeffe, published in 1976 by Viking Press, featured Summer Days (1936) on the cover. It became a bestseller. During the 1970s, she made a series of works in watercolor. She continued working in pencil and charcoal until 1984 (Wikipedia).

That means she painted as long as she could and then made other arrangements. But I am not talented like her and have no idea what I will do when I can no longer read and write. I'm so glad to learn that she continued to work for thirteen years after she had lost her central vision. The world is better off for her efforts. She lived to be 98 and died in 1986, so she was able to continue painting for many years, with assistance.

I am fairly used to the limited vision I have now, but I know it will continue to deteriorate. I have no interest in living a long life as a blind person. Of course, in the eyes of some people, I have already been blessed with a long life, but Georgia lived sixteen years longer than I have been alive, with the same limited vision. However, I seem to be in good health, and nothing seems to be of imminent concern, but then again you never know when you get old. Sometimes I wonder what it will be that takes me over to the "other side" because you know that eventually we all die. Some people linger in pain and discomfort, and others  die suddenly without a lot of fanfare. I think I would prefer the second option, but then again, do we get to choose?

I overslept this morning and will not be able to make a well-crafted and considered post, since I'm short of time. And it's colder this morning that it has been all week, with frost and very frigid weather outside. It's nice and warm inside, but I will be getting up soon and going to breakfast for John. My morning routine doesn't get shortchanged, either, as I still will find time for my exercises and meditation. I will enjoy the day and the week ahead, no matter what the news brings. In some ways, I have already grown accustomed to the news being bad, just like I have grown accustomed to limited vision. You gotta take what you get and find joy and peace in it, right? I will not be fully blind, and I will not be overwhelmed with it all. Instead, I will look for the silver linings that inevitably come, like this wonderful sunset picture.

Bellingham Bay, with Lummi Island in the center

The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision. —Helen Keller

I do hope that you find the silver linings in your own life, and that you will find some reasons to smile and laugh, because there is always something that lifts my spirits and make me happy to be alive today. Please forgive my somewhat truncated post. I will do better next week, if I can. My virtual family is as important to me as my "skin" family. Until we meet again next week, I wish you all good things, dear friends. Be well.