Day 17 - Blinded By The Lights

Anne walked out into the cool evening air, face flying off her. In Ireland, that means her cheeks were flushed a bright scarlet colour, and beads of sweat were bubbling out from under her skin. She'd just finished a spin class. Never having been one to do a half-arsed job of anything, she knew she'd pushed it to the max and achieved a solid burn. She was pleased. 

It had been over two years since she'd taken a spin class, since she'd done any kind of exercise that tough for that matter. Gyms had been closed during the pandemic and she hadn't stuck to doing high-intensity exercise at home. Thankfully, she had always been a walker. She'd kept fit hiking the hills near her home in Eastern Europe. 

The post-spin stretch had made her feel faint. She was a damn sight less conditioned than the athlete-fit woman she'd been just a few years previous. "It was silly of the instructor to make us do a forward bend immediately after getting off the bikes," she grumbled. "The cool down wasn't long enough. Anyone would get dizzy." Content with her thinking, deciding she was fine, she set out on the walk 'home.' 

Home. It wasn't really home. Home was technically across from the gym, her mother's home. She didn't have a home in Ireland anymore. She'd found somewhere on a short term contract a few kilometers away, close to home but with some privacy. She needed privacy. Everything still felt very unsafe and uncertain.

Fifteen minutes later, a red car slowed beside her as she walked into the estate. Surprised, she shot her head left when the voice called out, "Some post came for you. I thought I'd drop it round and see where you're living. I hope that's OK." It was her Mum. "Yeah, grand. Drive on round there and I'll be there in a minute. I want to finish the walk to cool down fully." 

As her Mum drove off, she turned her head back towards the footpath.

"What the fuck?" MUM!! MUM!! STOP! COME BACK!" 

Her Mum stopped, reversing, opening the car window, frightened. 

"I can't see. I can't see. What the fuck is happening?" 

She felt her way into the back seat of the car. "The vision in my right eye is gone. When I turned my head away from you, back towards the path, it clouded over. I can't see. Oh, jesus. What is happening?"

Staying as calm as she could, her Mum drove them around the corner asking what she'd been doing. Anne told her she'd been in a spin class. She told her she'd felt dizzy after it. She was breathing deeply and slowly, trying to calm her heart and mind. As they reached the house, her vision returned. Her Mum stayed awhile. They had a cup of tea. Tea fixes almost everything in Ireland.

She was scared. Just a year before, she'd been very ill. She was scared something was recurring or she'd been damaged and hadn't realised it. But she also remembered her blood pressure rising before during intense exercise. It was easier to put it down to that; to think she'd just done too much too soon. She'd pushed herself too hard too fast. That would be like her. Her Mum pushed her to call the doctor, just to be sure. She said she'd rest first and see how she felt.

She didn't call the doctor immediately. The next day, when she felt better, she put it down to too much too soon. Vision loss had never happened before, sure, but it was probably just an anomaly. Two days later, she went to another spin class. She went a little easier this time. She didn't do the same stretches at the end. "So far, so good," she thought on the walk home. 

Anne was due on a call with Georgie a short time later. She hadn't left much time to eat, so she made smoothie to tide her over. Flicking open her laptop and looking at the screen, she suddenly felt a little strange. What were those squares she was seeing? Was there something wrong with her screen? She blinked a few times then kept her eyes closed for a minute. Was she being blinded by the sudden lights on the laptop? 

Georgie came on the call. Anne old her what was happening, and what had happened a few days beforehand. Her friend had heard of people getting something called an aura just before a migraine before. "Maybe it's that. Do you suffer from migraine?" Anne had never had one before. She knew they could be debilitating. "God, I hope it's not that!" 

Six months later, Anne had been referred to a neuro ophthalmologist. Twelve months later, she'd had CT and electromyography exams. "There is degradation of your optic nerve uncharacteristic of someone your age." She hadn't yet turned 40. "We are going to book you for an MRI to explore this further." 

Anne was a fairy typical Gemini. She hadn't had the easiest of upbringings. She'd dabbled in different drugs over the years, drunk her fair share of alcohol and smoked. She worked equally as hard as she played though, on her career, her studies and her fitness. For a while, it had seemed like everything was being balanced well.

She'd been at the peak of her fitness, at the optimal time in her life. Then one day, fear took over. Anne spent a number of years in a toxic relationship, partying too hard, working too much, burning the candle at both ends until it almost burnt completely out. Once or twice, she'd thought she might blow it out herself. 

When the doctor said she had nerve damage, Anne was devastated. Her whole life, deep down, she'd never wanted to touch drugs. She'd seen someone she loved almost die of an overdose when she was young. She was determined never to let that happen to her. But teenagers who don't feel comfortable in the group and want to fit in will try things. So she did. She would go on to start and stop, over and over, right up into her adult years. 

Ten months after her CT results, Anne still hadn't had the MRI. They didn't seem to know where the EMG results were. "Let me look into this," the doctor said. Four weeks later, the hospital called,

 "You have been placed on the emergency list for an MRI. We'd like you to come in this week."

She was frightened. It was too expensive to fly home that week. She asked if she could postpone it until she'd be home, two months later. The caller reluctantly agreed. Anne didn't know if she was making the right decision. When she got off the phone, she broke down. She was on an emergency list. Why? Why so suddenly? Why hadn't she asked why? 

It would take another three months post MRI for Anne to finally be given the news. The previous two and a half years had been shrouded with a fear she had acknowledged but not been fully aware she had felt so deeply. Some part of her had felt like the back of her shirt was clipped onto an invisible hook. No matter how hard she'd tried to move forwards, something inside was holding her back. Silent fear. Fear she had an incurable illness. Fear she would find out that all the work she had been doing was in vain. Fear she had ruined her life in those years of not heeding her instincts. 

As she walked out of the hospital, Anne cried. She had been ready for whatever they might tell her. Or so she'd thought. 

Her shoulders dropped as she released her fear. "Everything's going to be all right now."

All clear, for at least a year.