After the Diagnosis

The problem was, if I really did have Retinitis Pigmentosa like Dr. Bellington said, I’d already lost the war. With no cure to fall back on, what chance did I have of fighting back even if I had it? 

I struggled to fight the battle at hand and forget the war. Take it one day at a time.

 How did Doctor Bellington know they wouldn’t find a cure? Why should I put all my stock in his words?  I’d need to go and do some research at my library. All the signs had been there but somehow I missed them—the blurriness, the night blindness, my own fender benders in high school, constantly getting lost and oh, yeah, the klutziness. 

 It had been years since I’d seen an eye doctor. What if I’d gone earlier? Would I have found out about it? Would it have made a difference?  Thank God I didn’t go! If knew I was going blind then I'd have never traveled to South or Central America. 

 Now it was finally sinking in. Maybe I did have this eye disease. It made sense.

I needed comfort. Some kind of reassurance. I picked up the phone and dialed a long-distance Pennsylvanian number

After we finished the small talk, I wondered how to start. "Um, Holly, I went to this eye specialist, and you know, can you believe they found out I have this incurable disease? I guess I'm ... um, going blind." I hated saying those horrible words. Blind. I couldn't imagine it.  

Silence. 

What do you expect her to say anyway after you drop a bomb like that? 

 “Oh my gosh! I don't know what to say."

"Why do you think God let this happen to me, Holly?"

She coughed into the phone. "I have no idea. I feel terrible.”

I begged for an out. "Do you think the doctor could be wrong?" 

"Um, if they took tests, I don't guess there would be any error. Did, did you say there wasn't any cure?"

My gloom deepened. "That's what the doctor said."

"Oh. I have no words." 

"Yeah..."

The silences lengthened. I searched for something safe to talk about. 

"Hey, are you going back overseas to teach this year?" 

"Me? No. You were the one so gun-ho on teaching in, where was it? Silly me, I guess that's out now, huh?"
"I dunno. Just don't know..." My throat clogged and the tears came. 
What did this mean for the rest of my life? 
Silence       I hesitated, then blurted out,  "Holly, I don't know what to do..."        Please say something!
Finally, her troubled words came haltingly. "Just ... trust .. God." She sounded as helpless as I felt.
It was my turn to be silent. I didn't know how to do that at this moment. 
Holly cleared her throat and apologized for not knowing what to say.     
"No, no, not at all. Of course, who knows what to say when there's such shocking news. I'm sorry to put you in this situation...Thank you so much for listening..." I babbled, filling the silence. 

"Of course you should have called. I'm just sorry I don't know how to help you..." 

The call and the awkwardness exhausted me. What a relief to hang up. 

But, unable to sit in the silence of my fears, I picked up the phone again and dialed another. Each call ended the same, and I felt more discouraged. 

Finally, I pushed the faded-pink phone away. I couldn't even find the energy to walk the few feet to my bed. Instead, I lay my head down on my desk and sobbed. 

Would my life ever be the same again?