An Accidental Gift.

A few years ago  I was reading Sonia Sotomayor's autobiography, My Beloved World, and a phrase literally jumped off of the page into my entire being. In reference to the positive effect of her Type I diabetes diagnosis as a child, she coined a phrase that managed to capture Anderson's eye journey in two words.  

Accidental Gift. 

She went on to explain how her diagnosis and self care shaped her personality in so many ways, ultimately leading to her place as the first Latino & 3rd woman appointed to the Supreme Court. I re-read that page over and over, processing what she was telling me, applying it to our journey and absolutely reveling in the fact that WE ARE SO LUCKY. So lucky because, and I cannot believe I am saying this, Anderson's eye journey has been a gift. What I have learned about parenting, sacrifice, challenges and WINNING over the last 6 years cannot be described in any other way except as a gift. I mean, hear me correctly, my kid was basically blind and still has a chance that this whole thing can go downhill really fast. Also, the one thing he lives for-football-might be out of his reach due to his eye. But, ultimately, he might be the absolute best kid I have ever met and, in so many ways, I credit his strengths to this eye journey. 

Anderson is amazing (Also, exhausting....) in so many ways, but a few of the personality traits that stand out to me are his curiosity and his drive, both of which I credit to his accidental gift. He is in the highest reading group at his school out of all of the reading groups in the grade. In fact, there are only 6 kids in all of 1st grade who qualify for this group. Also, he is SO into Math (I blame Brandon) that his teacher gives him a bunch of enrichment word problems every day to work on when he finishes his work. He questions everything and I credit his eyepatch because, as it turns out, when you have to be distracted for 16 hours a day the first 3 years of your life, you end up pretty interested in things.

Second, his drive is a very real thing. His competitiveness absolutely defines everything he does and while he does get a pretty significant part of it honestly, I credit his eye journey for the rest of it. He always has to work just a little bit harder than the average 6 year old because he cannot see equally out of his eyes, his left eye does not adjust from far away to close up, there is a shadow off his fake  lens that blocks part of his vision and he has spent more of his life in a patch with access to one eye than not. This gift was very evident to me during his recent football season. Because of his love/obsession for football, he understands the game. This, combined with his competitive drive, made him a beast at flag football. (I realize I am bragging on my kid, but it is my blog and we have spent 6 years patching so I can focus on the positives if I want. Thanks. ) He was so good that parents complained & his coach was told to take him out of the game once he scored (he scored multiple times a game) and to only give him the ball on 4th downs. 

Needless to say, I was pissed. 

Do not even get me started on how LIFE IS A COMPETITION & you cannot choose to have your competitor sit out until you can catch up. But, my real anger was that all of this resentment and the weird rules were directed at the "kid in the rec specs." THE ONLY KID IN THE REC SPECS! Did anyone ever stop & ask WHY he was in rec specs? (No. The answer is no.) It was when this all went down that I realized how PROUD I was of this kid. When he wanted to play football we told him that he was going to have to work harder than other kids because he would not really have peripheral vision & the rec specs would prevent him from seeing as clearly. So, he practiced. And practiced. And practiced. And, he became really good for a 6 year old. Watching his hard work pay off made me so proud of him and so grateful that he had something to overcome. 

It looks like this brings us up to the point of the post-our recent eye visit. 

I cannot believe how tiny he used to be in that chair. 

There are always so many minutes to fill waiting for the drops, for the drops to dilate and for the appointment itself. I think they were playing some kind of number guessing game here. 

Dr. Cogen came in and asked, "How is my star patient?" I might as well have just started crying right then instead of saving it up for later. 

We found out these truths:

-The average corrected vision for a patient with a congenital, pediatric, monocular cataract is 20/200. Anderson is 20/25. This is basically unheard of in eye world. *Insert hysterical sobbing....

-There is "very little chance" that this will fail now. 

-We only have to patch 4 hours a week. I REPEAT we are NOW IN PARADISE. 

-He is, and will continue to be, normal. 

-Dr. Cogen will actually allow multiple hugs from his patient's mom each and every visit. 

-He cannot play football because of the tackling, but he CAN be a kicker! HE CAN BE A KICKER ON A FOOTBALL TEAM! 

-Dr. Cogen is saving this spot on the wall for Anderson's autographed picture when he is a famous kicker. 

I cannot even believe that we are at this point. This has been a 6 year journey.  SIX YEARS! I never, ever would have imagined we would be here. In fact, I remember a conversation I had with another mom 6 years ago. We were going through a particularly rough patch with the patching (ha ha ha) and Dr. Cogen gave me the # of a veteran cataract mom to call. Her son was about 11 or so and I remember muting the phone because I did not want her to hear me sobbing as she said exactly how I was feeling. It was so reassuring to finally talk to someone who had actually lived it. Then she said, "You know, if we could do it over again, I would not change it. The journey has shaped our family." I was so confused and did not understand. Now, 6 years later, I understand and I am grateful. 

Because we are VIP (Thanks to the Hills) we get extra credit. I was going on & on about how amazing Dr. Cogen is and our cousin texted him about it and this was his reply. 

Six years down. We've got this.