I inhaled and took a deep breath in this morning and now, six hours later, I feel like I’m just starting to exhale.
We took our daughter into the ER this morning. Last night, on our way home from gymnastics, my daughter tells me nervously and with a hint of fear in her voice that all the lights look blurry. I thought it was that glow around street lights that happens when it gets dark and didn’t really think too much of it. I was hoping that maybe she was just tired from a full day of fun and that it would go away. I mentioned it to my husband when we got home and we did an off the cuff eye test on her: what letters are on this book? how many fingers am I holding up? what numbers do you see? It was clear things were looking a little bit blurry for her, but after an hour or so, she said it was getting better. We took her word for it and tucked her into bed for the night.
This morning, as she was snuggled up with my husband, she mentioned that everything was still looking blurry. And that’s when I took a deep breath in and we went into action. After calling the pediatrician on call, my husband took her to the ER. Thoughts of retinal detachment…or worse….were floating in our heads.
Thankfully (I wish there was a more forceful word), she got the all clear. Several eye exams later we were on our way with the recommendation for a follow up to see if she needs glasses. Glasses. My husband and I have worn glasses since we were in elementary school. We can handle glasses.
And now, six hours later, I sit in front of the computer wanting to both remember and forget this inhaled breath. I am forever grateful to have access to medical care for my babies. I am forever grateful to glasses.