A bad eye and a good man

I am lucky enough to work for a big Publisher and their response to my sight loss has been absolutely corking. Their efforts on my behalf have enabled me to continue with the job I love and I am so grateful. My eye is finding some sort of level. A couple of weeks ago it had been so consistently painful that I all but begged the Consultant to take it out - but with some tweaking of drugs, I am now doing much better. Most people with this level of Neovascular Glaucoma eventually lose the eye and I suspect that the Doctors keep going in their attempts to keep the pain under control partly in order to allow the patient to get their head around the end stage situation. My eye is trashed. There is no possibility of it ever functioning as a sighted eye again - they keep gently reiterating this to me as if I have not taken that information on board. Somewhere my pragmatism is being lost in translation. I'm not 25, or a model. I have the happiest marriage, which as my husband has always worked in bomb disposal/mine clearance has always included the understanding that our abiding love would survive any loss of body parts! It's kind of ironic that it looks like it'll be mine rather than his, but I truly don't have a problem with it. It's useless and it's trouble, a whole lot more trouble than a prosthetic would be, so bring it on I say.

Steve's organisation is thriving under his charge. His dynamism has energised the situation and has meant new funding from the UN and from several more Governments, which has translated to more projects world-wide - huge landmine clearance, victim assistance, armed violence monitoring projects, training local populations.....I am so monumentally proud of him. I was talking to my Mum the other day and in the course of the conversation said 'Frankly Ma, I am in awe of him, is that weird?' to which she replied ' No darling, we all are - he's an incredible man'. I have high self esteem (thanks to great parenting and a great husband) and it's not that I think that I don't deserve him - but I am so very honoured to be loved by him. Theoretically, we are not a match. He is sporty, academic, brilliant, funny, fair, courageous, tall, slim and beautiful. I am none too bright, ridiculously short, inclined to eat cake rather than exercise, given to making random ill informed judgements, and not very interested in the world beyond my own little universe, but work on every level, it does. We would never have been matched by one of those dating sites that are always advertising on TV as successful because ' we take care to match you with someone who shares your interests'. That always strikes me as so simplistic. It's chemistry isn't it? Actually, maybe it's chemistry and shared values. We may have different tastes but from day one we both knew that we were right for each other. We both get involved, step in, defend the small the weak and the disadvantaged, love good manners and kindness and abhor cruelty and prejudice. He has a highly developed sense of humour and I am inclined to be serious but we have an identical take on what is ridiculous and often catch each other's eye and grin in social situations because we have found the same thing barking. I didn't mean to write what I can see might come across as a rather smug love letter to Steve but my excuse is that I think it's possibly rather cool to be so wild about someone after so many years.

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