Pillow Talk and Gratitude

“We’re lucky,” Jeff said during early morning pillow talk.

“I know,” I said.  “But why do you think we are lucky?”

“Because here we are, next to each other.”

Sweet.  That’s what I was thinking, too. 

Jeff is recovering from his second cataract surgery which, unfortunately, did not have as good results as the first.  After surgery, the vision in his left eye became so impaired that he doubted he would be able to read the big “E” on the eye chart.  An extra visit to the eye doctor relieved some of his anxiety (he could, in fact, read the “E” and, with a special paddle with pinholes, he could read the whole chart).  However, he will need another surgery, probably in January – rather than at six months as Dr. Pendse predicted on the day of his surgery.  Dr. Pendse described the eye as having the shape of an M&M candy and said he was unable to remove as much of the cataract as necessary from behind the “candy coating”.  He needed something stable on which to attach the new lens.

You might think that there would be driving restrictions for someone whose vision was suddenly made worse.  No.  None were given.  I drive whenever we are together anyway because Jeff often has fatigue.  We’ll see whether he will be able to work since his prescription glasses don’t help him right now and he can’t be fitted for new glasses until the left eye is dealt with.  Sometimes the poor vision in that eye frustrates and annoys him.

Jeff took advantage of this week of recovery to do some errands.  Yesterday, after his blood draw for Dr. Pat, he planned to get his driver’s license picture taken and then get a haircut.  He joked, “Will it look suspicious if I get my haircut after my driver’s license photo?  Like I’m trying to change my appearance?” 

I said, “Oh, you know what?  You should probably have ‘Organ Donor’ removed from your license.” 

Jeff slid the license paper aside to reveal the flyer on organ donation.  He studied the pictogram and quipped, “Well, let’s see.  Maybe there’s something they can use.”

I said, “I don’t think so.  Once you’ve had cancer…”

Jeff seemed to ignore me.  “Liver,” he read, “no.  Kidneys, no.  Pancreas, probably not.  Eyes, no.  Skin, no.  Veins, no.”

I joined in the game, “Lungs.  Your lungs are okay!”

He did have the Pennsylvania Department of Transportation remove “Organ Donor” from his license but not before confirming that he really, truly could never again be an organ donor.  It must be a hard realization to come to after years of willing inclusion. 

Daughter Kim suggests her dad grows his hair out to 8” or more so he could donate his hair (as she will soon do).  Ha!

We are thankful for willing donors – those who list “Organ Donor” on their driver’s licenses on the chance they could be of some use after their own demise.  And we are grateful for those who swab their cheeks for potential bone marrow donation – and even more grateful for those who answer the call and give the gift of life.  We hold Jeff’s donor Nicole in our hearts this Thanksgiving.  Her marrow makes possible our pillow talk and laughter and life.