Write What You Know...

Isn't that what we've been told over and over? Here I am trying to figure out about what I should write, and so I suppose sometimes I will discuss what's happening #TodayOnTheScene, which is always something, or maybe I'll write about photo tips, or perhaps make some horrible listicles or something. ​

There is a board for notes I made out of the back of Christmas wrapping paper and thumbtacked to the wall by my desk; on it is written important information in permanent marker, temporary stuff in pencil, and sticky notes for reminders and such. This is how I'm attempting to keep all of my information and to-dos in one place. Yes, I use Microsoft One-Note also - that is one kick-ass program - but sometimes old-skool is the way to go.

I need to make time and schedule my blog posts, or at least schedule writing them. But shit keeps happening that is out of my control that keeps me from sitting in my office and getting all my notes in order, my ducks in a row so to speak, my projects on track, or insert your favorite clichée here
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So, let's see. What has been keeping Cathleen from getting her most important work done? There are many distractions working from home. One of the biggest distractions is the sun conure in the family room. If he does not have your undivided attention, he will scream until he gets it, and then I have to play nice-nice with him for a while. He's an attention whore.  A cute one, but a whore.

But that's not what threw the wrench into the works last week. No, this past Tuesday I was sitting here where I am right now working, and I had finally gotten focused on a project. John had just left for the eye doctor with complaints of vision issues. He had told me that he was seeing "ants running around" his peripheral vision, as well as flashing lights. He has also been under a great deal of stress, and thought the problem with his eyes was related. 

My phone rang just as I was getting into what I was doing, and it was John. The eye doctor was sending him across the street to the retina specialist. Apparently he had a detached retina. This will cause permanent blindness if not treated properly and immediately. I could get into the whole story about how he had to get clearance from his primary care doctor before the surgery and how they said they could not fit him in today and how I drove down there like a lunatic to beg them to see him NOW, but ain't nobody got time for that today.

Thursday afternoon we went to New York Eye And Ear Infirmary/Mt. Sinai on E14th Street. Have you ever driven to Manhattan from Staten Island, or even Brooklyn? It's usually a flippin' nightmare and a half. We left the house at 12:08, and we were in the parking garage on E9th Street by 1pm. Never in my life have I gotten to Manhattan that quickly. We expected it to take that long just to get off the island, because it usually does. Jesus, it takes half an hour to drive eight miles to my mom's house. That's 16mph. Please, Felicia. I don't know what was or was not going on that day, but zip-zip!

The surgery went well as expected. We didn't get home until 1am, and John is supposed to be keeping his head face-down. The doctor implanted a gas bubble into his eye to keep pressure on the area of the retina he used the laser to correct the detachment. There is only an 80-85% chance of recovery. How many times do you think I had to yell "Look Down!" at him like he was one of the Misérables pulling a ship in to port? He's not supposed to carry anything heavier than five pounds. So who do you think tried to carry a five pound bag of ice into the house? "GIVE ME THAT BAG - IF YOU GO BLIND IN THAT EYE BECAUSE YOU'RE STUBBORN, I'M GOING TO POKE YOU IN THE OTHER ONE".

Poor baby was pretty miserable after the surgery and for the few days following, but he's doing much better today. The doctor said he could go vertical by Monday, so at least he got to make me breakfast just now (he loves to cook) and I've managed to get my blog post finished while he was cooking. MMMm... bacon eggs and cheese on a potato roll.

​Now, where's my coffee? 

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