Saturday, March 12, 2022

Still wallowing…

 …in a puddle of angst — not quite the Slough of Despond, but debilitating enough I suppose. The world situation is worrying, the crazies are doing their damndest to take over the asylum here in the US, and Mother Nature is throwing around whacky weather all over the place. Yesterday was a sunny, pleasant 64F. (about 17C.) here — today it is 32F (0C.) and snowing. Arghh!

My refuge from all this has always been in creating — whether sewing, knitting, beading or anything else. Like everyone else I’ve had to deal with the passage of time and its effects  on physical abilities. Not always pleasant, but we deal with it. Now though, I’m faced with something not so easy for me to deal with — wet macular degeneration. Many of us will face the ‘dry’ version of age-related macular degeneration but around 20% will have that develop into ‘wet’ (so called because of fluid leakage from eye blood vessels) which can lead to a loss of vision. Not a total loss — peripheral vision remains — but enough to make me fearful of the day I may not be able to do the things I find comforting and joyful. Right now my treatment is medication injected into the eye itself to stop the progression — there is no current cure, although there is always hope. I can still do the work I love with added lighting and magnification, but as those modifications become less effective I find myself giving in to bouts of useless self-pity. This entry is one of them, I guess. It’s also my way of reaching out to anyone else ‘out there’ who may be dealing with this. 

Next post will be more upbeat I hope. I have a few things I’ve made and a few things I’m planning. The work goes slower, and I’ve had to let go of any hope of ‘perfection’ (does that even exist anyway?) but things are still chugging along in the workroom. 

2 comments:

Patricia said...

Have the same thing with my eye. Age related, and we do what we can do.

Karen said...

Indeed, Patricia. I think letting go of the idea that things I create have to be of a certain high standard has been hard to accept. The joy is in the making and we do the best we can.