The Eyes Have It

I can't remember if I've ever mentioned it here (chances are I have mentioned it, I've blogged about everything from my fake wood floors to my child screaming), but Brandon has a little issue with his eyes.

And by "little issue with his eyes", I mean "progressive eye disease that will eventually require him to have a corneal transplant". Brandon has keratoconus in both eyes, and we have know for several years now that he would eventually require corneal transplants.

I think we both just thought "eventually" was still several years down the road.

Turns out, "eventually" is tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow Brandon and I will head to the hospital, and a couple of hours later he will leave with a dead-guy cornea in his left eye. He will be under general anesthesia for the procedure, and will get his very own eye patch to take home with him! For several days (weeks?) he will have to take eye drops every 2 hours while he is awake, and be very cautious to not rub his eye, or get anything in his eye. Tonight we are going shopping for a couple of pairs of "fake glasses" to hopefully offer just a little bit of protection against the tiny bits of dirt and dust that we rub from our eyes without even giving it a second thought. And yes, Brandon (with the doctor's blessing) is spending a couple of weeks in KENYA next month. There's no dirt in the desert, right?

Just for the record, I'm not nervous about the surgery.

I'm not the slightest bit worried about the recovery period afterwards.

I'm not concerned that my husband, who cannot remember to finish his antibiotics, will forget to take the anti-rejection eye drops every two hours.

I know he will stay out of the Gaga pit on Friday, even though he scheduled a youth event out there. Because the nurse at his doctor's office actually laughed when I told her that he thought he could play dodgeball 3 days after a corneal transplant. Apparently, any stenuous activity, contact sports, bending below the waist and lifting are big no-nos after this eye surgery. Something about "delicate eye tissue" and "microscopic sutures".

But, though we're not worried, or concerned, or even the slightest bit nervous about a doctor slicing Brandon's cornea off his eyeball and replacing it with a dead-guy cornea, please say a little prayer for us tomorrow. And maybe the next day and the next few weeks, too, as Hot Brandon's eye heals up. Just to add to the (non-existent) anxiety, this is a surgery where the results are not immediate, and it may take up to a year to see the extent of its effectiveness. It's not even my eye, but I can imagine how nerve-wracking it may be to wake up with worse vision in your eye than what you had before, knowing that it could be a while before you know if the surgery has "worked" or not.

So please keep us, and my husbands pretty blue eyes, in your prayers tomorrow and this week. My non-worried brain would sure appreciate it.

On a lighter note, yesterday someone got to my blog by googling "how to trick your sister into licking your armpits". I really hope this little boy's parents are monitoring his google searches.

And his sister, too, for that matter.