I hate today and what it brings. It will be both long and sad. Today Ryan’s deep brown eyes will be mostly stitched shut. I hate this. We just loaded Ryan into the ambulance for transport to Fair Oaks Hospital for his eye surgery. It is seven o’clock in the morning. Sue is riding in the back with Ryan and I am up front with the driver. I’m in no mood to talk. There’s really nothing positive I could say anyhow.
I remember how exciting it was in July 2010 when Ryan began to open his eyes. At first, just a slit. By the end of August, less than a month later, they were wide open. We embraced this change since it would allow him to get visual input… If he could.
Like now, we didn’t know how he saw the world (if at all), but the opportunity was there. Then the reality of having his eyes never closing set in. He was now prone to eye infection. The dryness from exposure was putting his corneas at serious risk. We began around the clock care with lubricants, moisturizers, washes, steroids, antibiotics, and goggles. For two years, without fail, Ryan’s eyes received care every hour of the day. That’s over 17,500 times! Our dedication only delayed the inevitable of what is today. The risk of losing not only his chance at sight, but his eye(s), could not be ignored. We did the best we could for him and admitting we could do no more hurts.
Today we mostly close his eyes, but the hourly care will go on. It’s not that today’s operation eliminates the hourly treatments. It’s just an additional way to help.
It’s 7:35 AM. We arrived at the hospital. It’s time to take Ryan in, as people stare — sometimes stopping in their tracks — just to get a good look. It never gets easier to see others do this. It felt like we walked through every waiting room in the hospital.
True to form, people took notice. One couple actually stood up and walked closer for a better look. After a minute or two they noticed that I was staring at them, the same as they were at Ryan. They dropped their eyes and left.
It’s 8:00 AM. Ryan is in pre-op getting prepped for surgery. I’ll post updates (Facebook might be best for a quick one) as the day unfolds.
Pour thanks to the people who are watching our home while we’re out, allowing me to post in real time.