My husband Johnny has had the same UGLY glasses for like, 10 years now. With much persuasion (read: I forced him to spend the money. Ahem... tight...), he agreed to go to the eye doc and finally get some new glasses. During what was supposed to be a routine dilation test, the doctor found a mass in the back of his eye. He was told that it could just be a birth mark, but the doctor didn't want to risk it, so he needed to come back in a month and have it monitored and then go from there.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
You know that thing where you're panicking, but you're telling yourself you're not panicking, but you're panicking while reminding yourself that there's no reason to panic? Yeah. That.
After a month of "not panicking" I drove J back to the eye doctor to have his eye dilated and checked again. The "mass" hadn't grown, but doc still wasn't comfortable with just sending him on his way, so we went to get photographs taken and a second opinion.
(here's a cute snuggle time picture to break up all of these words)
The next doctor (same day) had to dilate the eye again. Poor Johnny. This was a day of sensitive eyes and a sea sick tummy. As the doctor checked the eye, he was much more optimistic. He took A LOT of photographs and finally came to a conclusion. It was no big deal. He said that J needed to come back in 3 months to have it looked at again, but he really thought it was just a birth mark on the inside of his eye and it's no big deal. *Here go the eyes welling up from the happy.*
We've been lucky... er... blessed. Not just in this, but in our whole 10 years. We haven't had to face illness or death in our years together so far, and for that I am so thankful.
Thanks for reading. Sometimes a girl just needs to get a little personal.