Not All Who Wander are Lost

Chapter 11 of "Half-Blind"

Gulfstream Beach, FL ~ 1993

All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost… -J.R.R. Tolkien

James was feeling overwhelmed at the eye surgeon’s office.

“So, you see, Jimmy, Mrs. DeYoung...” The surgeon, Dr. Downing, held up a model of an eyeball. White, with broad red stripes attached on the sides. “We’ll gently remove your right eye, detach this muscle here, and reattach it a few millimeters in this direction. We’ll do the same, but the other direction, on this muscle over here. It’s pretty straightforward. Then your right eye should be aligned with your left. Any questions?”

James always thought of the questions a few hours later. Thankfully his mom was on top of it. “So, you have to remove his eye for this? Isn’t that a little drastic?” she asked.

“It may seem that way,” Dr. Downing replied, “but there’s no room to work if we leave it in. Don’t worry, the optic nerve will be unaffected, so the eye should be perfectly healthy when we put it back in.”

“Except for the blind part, right?” James said. The adults ignored him.

“Have you done many like this?” Mom asked.

“Oh yes, hundreds. People come here from all over the state. Our success rate is tops in the nation: just over 90%.”

The statistic caught James’s attention. “So that’s 10% failure. What is considered a failure anyway? Could I die or something?”

“All surgeries carry risk, but no, you’re not likely to be in any danger. A lack of success is when the eye is over-corrected, or the eye reverts to its original state,” Dr. Downing calmly replied.

“So I might go from being lazy-eyed to cross-eyed?” James asked.

“In a manner of speaking, yes. But again, our success rate is very high, and your case is very straightforward.”

“Ha. Yeah, ‘straightforward’ is the goal right. To look straight?” James said.

The surgeon just smiled. Mom asked, “So what’s the recovery like?”

“It is an outpatient surgery, so you’ll go home the same day. But to be completely honest, most patients report that the first few days aren’t pleasant. In layman’s terms, the white of your eye will be blood red for a while. You’ll want to be in a darkened room for at least a few days. The pain will be a challenge, but not unmanageable. Your initial recovery will depend on your reaction to general anesthetic. I noticed on your chart you’ve had an adverse reaction to anesthetic in the past?”

“Yeah, they had to knock me out to reset my dislocated shoulder from basketball. When I woke up I threw up a ton. All day. It was terrible,” James said.

“Oh my. I’ll make a note for the anesthesiologist and she will give you the best stuff we’ve got, as well as something for nausea.” Dr. Downing smiled. “If you’re vomiting soon after this surgery, the pressure on your eye could be incredibly painful.”

“Great,” James looked at his mother, doubt written all over his face.

“Any other questions?”

“James? Any other questions? You still up for this?” his mother asked.

“No more questions right now at least.” James said.

“Well, feel free to call my office any time if you think of any more questions.” Dr. Downing took a step toward the door. “If you’d like to proceed, I believe they’re booking us a few weeks out. My surgery days are Thursday mornings. Mindi is our scheduler, so speak with her when you check out. Good day. I’m looking forward to seeing you again soon.”

Dr. Downing shook their hands and disappeared down the hall. James looked at his mother, hoping for answers. “It’s up to you, sweetie,” she said.

“Well, we’ve come this far. Sounds ‘straightforward’ enough. Let’s do it,” James said.

“OK, let’s get it on the calendar then.”

James studied the eye poster on the wall while his mother spoke with the scheduler. “We need to fit it in before the end of the month, please.”

“Yes, we can do two weeks from Thursday. Memorial Hospital Outpatient Center. Please arrive at 7am.” the scheduler said.

“Yes, that’s fine, I’ll mark it down. Thank you.” As they departed for the parking lot, James wondered how much his life would change in a couple weeks.

~~~

Big Joe did his best to keep James’s and Kate’s schedules separate, so they didn’t see each other often besides going to the movies a couple times. They did, however, call each other on the phone before bed most evenings.

James finally worked up the nerve to tell her. “So Kate,” he said into the phone later that week, “I’m going to do this surgery on my bad eye, so it’ll look better.”

“But I thought you said it would always be blind?” Kate said.

“Yeah, it won’t fix the blindness, but it’ll fix the wandering eye. It won’t see better, but it will look better. No more creepy green-shirt-guy look for me.”

“Oh, OK.” Kate was quiet for a minute. “You know I was serious when I said I like how you look, right?”

“Yeah, I guess, but I figured why not give it a shot to look more normal?”

“Yeah, true. Well I hope it goes well. Will you need to take off work and school?” Kate asked.

“About a week. And apparently I’ll look pretty gruesome for a while. Should be fun.”

“So when’s the surgery anyway?”

“Two weeks from tomorrow morning. It’ll be here before we know it,” James said.

Kate was quiet again.

“Jim, you realize the prom is the next day?” Kate said quietly.

“Oh, crap. Oh, no. I’m so sorry, Kate.” More quiet. “Hey, I’ll talk to my mom and I bet we can schedule it for next month instead.”

“Hey, you know what?” Kate was talking fast now. “I get it. Priorities and all. Its not like I just bought a dress or anything, and its not like I’ve made plans with my friends to hang out all together after. It’s not like it was going to be the best night of our lives or anything.” She was practically yelling now. “You do your thing, OK? I’ll be fine. Maybe Billy still wants to go.”

"What? You said you didn't want to go with him.” James was panicking. “Listen, Kate, I know the prom is a big deal, but this is super important. Like maybe the most important thing I've ever done."

"Well I guess I thought I was important too." He could hear her starting to cry.

"You are important, Kate. But…"

"But what? Huh? I guess I thought you cared more than you do."

“Kate, come on, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?! Like this?” And she slammed down the phone.

“Crap, crap, crap. Shit.” James got up from his bed and found his mom and sister playing cards on the couch. “Hey Mom, can we reschedule my surgery? I totally forgot that the prom is the same weekend.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry, but if we pushed it back into next month, that would mean it would fall under our new insurance plan, and it would cost thousands of dollars, which we don’t have right now.”

“Oh. Kate’s kind of upset,” James said.

His sister Becky teased, “Sounds like you’ve got quite a promblem, Jimmy. Ha!”

“Shut up, Becks, this is serious!” James snapped at her. “Kate is mad.”

“I’m sure she is but I don’t think there’s much we could do besides cancel it altogether. Is that what you’d like?” Mom asked.

“No. I guess Kate will have to get over it,” James said, wondering if she’d also be over him. "You don't think I could go to the prom after the surgery, do you?"

"Less than 48 hours after them cutting the muscles off your eye ball and sewing them back on?"

James winced.

“Ewww, gross,” Becky said.

"Sorry, no," Mom said.

~~~

The next two weeks went by in a miserable blur, filled with dread and regret. Kate stopped calling and wouldn’t pick up the phone either. But the night before his surgery the phone rang.

James picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey there, Slim Jim, how’s it going?” It was Kate, doing her best impression of Big Joe.

James was relieved to hear her voice after weeks of heartache, but he tried to play it casual with her.

“Oh, hey, Kate. What’s up?”

“Well I know it’s your surgery tomorrow, and I wanted to say ‘good luck.’ And I’m sorry for freaking out on you before. And I miss you.”

“Oh, OK. Yeah, thanks. That’s OK, I guess.” James said. “And yeah, I miss you too.”

“Yeah. Hope to see you around soon.” He could tell she was smiling through the phone.

“Hey Kate?” he asked, “are you still going to the prom?”

“Well, sorta. Billy already got another date: Heidi Anderson.”

“Oh my.” James said.

“Yeah, I know. Anyway, I decided to go with a group of friends. I’ll be a ‘fifth wheel’ I guess but it should still be fun. I’ll miss you though.”

“Oh, that’s good, I guess,” James said. “Sorry I’ll be too messed up to take you. But next year, when we’re seniors, we’ll have a blast. There’s always homecoming too.” James shocked himself that he was thinking that far ahead.

“Sounds great!” Kate said, her voice beaming. He tried to picture her smile, freckles dancing. “Uh, James, can I talk to your mom, please? I have a question for her, umm, about my dress. She knows how to sew, right?”

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” James said. “Mom! Kate wants to talk to you. Something about sewing.”

“Good luck again, Jim, and see you soon.” Kate said.

“Thanks, Kate.” He was suddenly tempted to blurt out “I love you” but just then his mom appeared and reached for the phone. As he handed it over, he thought about the ‘minimal risks’ of surgery the doctor mentioned, and he dearly hoped he would wake up and see his Kate clearly soon.

~~~

The next day they were out the door early. Soon enough he was lying on a gurney, catching a glimpse of Dr. Downing and untold numbers of nurses, and finally was counting down for the anesthesiologist. He fell into a deep, dark sleep.

He slowly awoke in a dark room, bandage over his right eye, his mother by his side. “There you are, sweetie. I think you’ve been having some interesting dreams. Who is Katie Did, anyway?” his mom suppressed a smile, not that he noticed.

“Huh? Oh, I don’t feel too good.” A wave of nausea overtook him, and his stomach lurched. His mother reached for a bowl and got it to him just in time, although his stomach was empty. His head pounded and he yelled out in pain. “Mom! What’s going on?!”

“You’re a little sick, sweetie, but you’ll be OK. The doctor said the surgery went great.” James wretched again. His mom got up and said, “I’ll call the nurse.”

His stomach settled down and they were eventually sent home, where he arrived to a bunch of streamers and ‘Get Well Soon’ mylar balloons. He barely saw them with his good eye, as he covered his face with his hands. "Holy crap it's bright out here," James said.

“Let’s get you to your room,” Mom said. “I put up some blackout curtains for you.”

He slept hard for a few hours until he heard a knock on the door. “Sweetie? You have a visitor, if you’re up for it,” his mom said.

Kate peered over his mom’s shoulder into the dark room. Still loopy from the surgery and pain medication, he could barely lift his head up.

“Hey, Slim Jim, you OK? I told you I’d see you soon,” Kate said. He smiled at the sound of her voice, but then hesitated.

“You don’t want to see me like this, Kate.” His speech was garbled, as he was still a bit hungover. “I’m a mess,” James said.

“Oh, I don’t care about that,” she said. “Here, I brought you something.” She stepped into the room and placed a large mason jar on his night stand. It was full of Skittles. “I heard you were sick to your stomach. Maybe this will help you feel better? I think they’ve got vitamin C in them, or something.”

“Well, let’s give it a little time. The nurse said the nausea might stick around for 24 hours,” Mom said.

“Thanks Kate, you’re sweet,” James mumbled. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you. Sorry I can’t hang out right now. My head is pounding, and I think my eye is bleeding under this bandage.”

“Oh, gross. Well, I can’t stay long anyway.” She stepped beside his bed, leaned over, and kissed his sweaty forehead. “See you soon, OK?”

“OK, thanks,” he said.

“Jimmy, time for your meds and then you can rest some more,” Mom said. “And Kate, so good to see you.” She smiled at her son’s girlfriend broadly. “See you soon, OK sweetie?”

~~~

The next day James was feeling much better, although he looked like he’d been mugged. He had a huge black eye on the right side of his face, and when they changed the bandage, he saw the white of his bad eye had indeed turned a bright, blood red. He was glad to see it was looking forward though.

He couldn’t read or watch TV, so he just laid in the dark listening to U2, Pearl Jam, Nirvana, and the Spin Doctors. He looked over and saw the giant jar of Skittles, barely remembering Kate’s visit. Suddenly craving sugar, he unscrewed the lid and grabbed a handful, working his jaw against the sugary mush. He was on his third handful when he began to have regrets.

“Mom! I don’t feel so good! I think I need to throw up!” James called out.

His mom called from the living room, “I’m coming, sweetie, but get to the bathroom. I don’t have a bucket in your room!”

He stumbled into the bathroom and a technicolor explosion just barely made it in the open toilet. The pressure on his surgically modified eye was intense, and he yelled out in pain. He vomited a few more rainbows of the remnants of the fruit candy, and each time his face felt like it as being hit with a hammer from the inside.

“Why?!” he screamed. “Why Skittles?!” His mom wiped his head with a cool rag. He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror, and saw something straight out of a Stephen King movie. The bandage fell off in the chaos, and he saw his bad eye, somehow now even more red. Now his eye was oozing blood all down his face, and his mom tried to wipe it clean.

“Ow! Leave it please!” He took the rag from her and dabbed it himself. A voice in his head told him to take a snapshot of this scene, and to never forget it. He stopped and stared, taking in every gory detail. “What the heck have I done?” Adding insult to injury, he began to cry, stinging his eyes even more.

“You’ll be OK, sweetie,” his mom assured him. “It might take a little while to feel better though. If you’re done throwing up let’s get you back in bed. Actually, do you want to come out to the couch for a change of pace? I’ll close the living room curtains. I’ll clean your room up a little for you.”

“OK, whatever.”

Later that night he laid in his bed and thought of the prom he was missing. He looked over at his fishtank and noticed his little hermit crabs. “What the heck is wrong with me? Sitting here in the dark by myself, bloody and bruised, while my girlfriend, my girlfriend, my girlfriend! is at the prom without me. What an idiot.” He knew better than to start crying again. Hermy and Crabby waived their antennae in sympathy.

His mom knocked on the door. “Hey, Jimmy, how about you change out of that old shirt? I noticed some blood on it.”

“What’s the difference, Mom? Isn’t it time for bed soon?”

“Yeah, but sometimes if you dress better you feel better, you know?” Mom said.

“OK, I guess.”

He changed his shirt and a few minutes later heard another knock. “Hey, sweetie, a few more visitors are here to see you.”

“Huh? Visitors? Who would come this time of night?”

Kate walked into his room in an iridescent blue off-the-shoulder dress, which was low-cut just enough to show a peek of her chest. “Hey there, Jim, how’s it going?” Her hair was done up in a fancy braid wrapped on top of her head, with little pearls scattered throughout. A perfect curl dangled and bounced near her temple. James was speechless. Her two friends and their dates filed into the room, all looking their best, if not a bit awkward.

“Hey, Jim, what’s up?” one of the guys said.

“Oh hey, Billy. I’ve been better, but I’ll get there.” He couldn’t take his eye off Kate. He’d never seen anyone or anything so beautiful.

“Sorry, I’m kind of a mess, but, uh, you look pretty nice.” He smiled, but immediately winced from the pain. “I’m really glad you came by. How was the prom?”

“Oh it was fine. They played a lot of that Cranberries song, which made me think of you,” Kate said. “The decorations were nice, but the jocks got a bit rowdy and knocked the cardboard greek pillars over.” She glanced over at Billy. “Everybody was asking about you though.”

“Oh really? Wow.”

“Heidi, can I have the flowers?” Kate said. A girl in a frilly pink dress handed Kate a glass vase full of roses and carnations.

“Here Jim, we took a centerpiece for you. Mrs. Powell said it was OK. Get well soon, OK?”

“Oh, wow, thanks everybody.”

“And now,” Kate announced, “we shall take some prom photos together, with me and my hot date. Billy?”

James shot an angry, confused look at Billy, who just smiled and took off his bright blue bowtie and handed it to Kate. “All yours,” he said.

Kate stepped over to James, reaching around his neck to fasten Billy’s bowtie on him. He couldn’t help but glance at the spot where the satiny blue fabric dipped to meet her pale, freckly skin. She kissed him gently on the forehead.

Heidi produced a disposable camera from her handbag and pressed the button to charge the flash. “Smile, lovebirds!” she said. James sat up straight in bed and tried to smile as Kate stood next to him grinning, her arm around his shoulders, his arm around her waist. He didn’t care how he looked for the pictures. Despite the misery of the morning, he decided right there that this must be the best day of his life.

~~~

James’s recovery went well enough. He returned to school and work in a week, although his bad eye remained bright red for weeks. He was happy to see it looking straight back at him, which was still a new sensation. “I guess all the misery was worth it,” he told himself in the mirror one morning.

A month later, while brushing his teeth at night he noticed it looked different, or rather, familiar. “Mom? Dad? Can somebody come check this out for me? Becks? Anybody around?”

His dad came into the bathroom. “What’s up, buddy?”

James pointed to his right eye. “Umm, does this eye look OK to you?”

“Well, it is a little red still, but that’s normal, right?”

“Yeah. But I mean is it looking straight still?”

“Hmm, let me see.” His dad took a step back and looked straight at him. “Look to your left.” James looked left. “OK, now right.” He did. “Up. Now down. Hmm.” His dad looked concerned. “OK, now look straight at me.”

James looked him in the eye. “No, I mean straight at me, right here.” He pointed to the spot between his eyes. His dad glanced at his left eye and then his right. “Look straight at me, son.”

“Dad,” James said, “I am.”

“Oh. Well. Huh,” his dad faltered. “Jamie?” he called across the house. “Can you come here please?”

“What?” James started sweating on his forehead.

“I think its gone back.” His dad looked away, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, son.”

James turned and looked in the mirror, and instantly he knew his dad was right. His right eye was wandering again.

“Well, shit,” James said. He turned and walked to his room, tears welling up, slamming the door behind him.