“It’s like anything,” he was saying as I tried to blink away the spots I was seeing before my eyes, “you can overwork them and they become fatigued. Rest is in order.” Not exactly what I wanted to hear. Not exactly something I could comprehend, but there it was. Rest. The big elephant in the room with my lupus, the eye doctor and myself.
You know how some times words take form on your lips without you giving it even a passing thought? As if they are a force all of their own? I seem to have a lot of these moments lately so I shouldn’t have been surprised when I heard my own voice asking how exactly was I supposed to rest my eyes?
obviously reading all the fine printed material I tend to read doesn’t help, nor does working on the computers and tablets do me any favours. Reading limited printed, in proper lighting was offered. As was sitting with my eyes closed and just relaxing. He even suggested cucumber slices resting atop closed eyes.
Eyes. What next lupus? What next? Is there any end to your greed or need to show your power? Why does this dance, nay, this relationship with you have to be so challenging? Why must we struggle against each other, showing strength and will in some weird contest? Haven’t you done enough?
These were the thoughts that have been bouncing around my head as I listen to the birds and animals. As I feel the sun, take in it’s brightness behind closed eyes. And somewhere, as. Think these thoughts I feel more of the fire fanning flames within me. Some of the fire is lupus. Flexing her strength. Some of the fire is my own anger or outrage at this disease and my own unease with it.
I must work my way towards fight the fire in a good way. Surely this can happen easily as I still have more days of resting my eyes. Surely I will find a way to see in other means, the way some other people can.