I didn’t mean to get a theme going, but sometimes a theme materializes when I least expect it to. If you read my last post, you know that I struggled with a difficult vision problem (diplopia—or double vision) for 15 years because I hadn’t been told there was a surgery to correct it. Thankfully—because I moved to a new city and saw different eye care providers—I was able to have that surgery, and I’m seeing very well now. I don’t even need prescription glasses anymore. This wasn’t the...
For Black
History Month, I’ve been cultivating content for the Voice and Vision Facebook
page. I was familiar with the most
famous individuals, like Martin Luther King, Jr., Harriet Tubman, George
Washington Carver, etc. However, I
wanted to learn something new in the process, so I dug a little deeper. In doing so, I came across some fantastic
black individuals who were significant contributors to things that are
commonplace today. This week, I want
to share...
I was filled with worry as I got off the subway and began walking toward Will’s Eye Hospital. I’d been dealing with double vision for fifteen years, and it just kept getting worse. The effort of trying to keep two images merged into one required so much mental energy. I was always exhausted. Normal everyday things had become such a challenge, like reading signs with lots of words, such as fast food menus and plane and train schedules: I’d end up covering one eye to keep the words from swimming...
My son, Kieran, was born one day after his due date on October 7, 2018. In the month leading up to his birth, I prepared for his arrival – stocked the freezer with meals, set up the nursery, and read a book about how to care for babies. I was all set. Even as I arrived home from the hospital, I was confident we’d do just fine as a new little family. I was in for a rude awakening. Trouble was, Kieran would not sleep. The first night home, he screamed for hours. My husband...
Things are Changing. Returning to South Philly was never my dream, but living next door to Bill’s aunts, quite unexpectedly, made being here worthwhile. After moving in, I quickly realized that if Bill and I weren’t here, Aunt Ginny and Aunt “Bo” (the nickname Bill gave her because, as a toddler, he couldn’t say “Dolores”) probably wouldn’t be able to continue living independently. Not that the things we do for them are huge or heroic, but we are there for the little day-to-day things—like...
