As Lovely As You

moodboard by audrey:

As lovely as you! It has been an insane week. Some ups and some downs, but all in all, enlightening. Have you ever gotten  to the point where you are praying the phone doesn’t ring with more sad news? That is what this week was like. A lot of calls and me yelling at the universe ‘Are you Kidding me???’ So the anxiety level has been off the charts.

Trying to be very Zen today and reading a book about a nasty serial killer…hmmm, what does that say about me??

xx Patricia


Anxiety. The What If of Life.


Hope, Courage and Strength. All of these are running through my mind this morning!

Yesterday afternoon the surgeon’s office called to let me know that I will be having my scar removal and corneal transplant on the 23rd of February. We went over all of the pre-op and post-op instructions and then I spoke with the anesthesiologist who gave me his instructions. No eating or drinking after midnight. Not a problem for me. No jewelry, no makeup and bring a shirt that buttons up the front. Not sure about that one.

So I was all at once anxious and glad I now had the date. Since I have promised myself I will not do any more research and look at pictures of eyeballs, I’m not sure how I feel now. Resigned I guess but I’m sure Anxiety will rear her ugly head as I get closer to the date.

Anxiety is that little devil on my shoulder that says ‘Hey, you should make sure your surgeon and all the other O.R. people aren’t on drugs or alcohol. What would happen if one of them had the shakes?’ That is what anxiety is. The What Ifs of Life. Anxiety is not logical, but it does have the power to bring you to your knees some days.

Happy Reading   xxPatricia

When Anxiety Has You By The Throat

I’ve been away for a couple of days now. It’s been 7 months since I contracted an infection in my left eye from a contact lens. A brand new contact lens. At first it was a wild time just trying to save the eye and then it was healing it. I have written plenty about it the last few months and at my last visit my Doctor told me it was completely healed and that I would need 2 operations. One to remove the deep scar and then a corneal transplant.

Yesterday was my check up and getting all my measurements done for the transplant, which will come first. I was ready. More than ready for this to be over. But it just didn’t go that way. I had so many drops yesterday that when I got home and could see a little bit my pupils were so big I looked like some Emo character or a Meth user as someone told me.

Now I have full faith in the Dean McGee Eye Institute and my surgeons. They are in the top 100 of Best lists all the time. Yesterday they said we are starting with the transplant. There will be about an 8% rejection rate and for the next year you will have to be extremely careful not to bump it or rub it or even looks at it. Okay I made that last one up but I’m moping now so let it go. After that year, they will go in and remove the small cataract that formed when I was on the steroids. There is a very fine line between healing and harming with steroids.  I basically zoned out after that. Shut down. Came home and sat in a chair silently for hours until I fell asleep. Dreaming of a Stephen King scenario with someone else’s cornea. A dead someone else.

To admit that I’m scared to death and horribly angry is not something I’m used to doing. I am the strong one. I am the one who does the helping, the advocating on behalf of the patient. And now I just feel like crying.

You can’t really see anything wrong with my eye but I can’t see out without it looking like 4 layers of plastic wrap are hanging there. I will never be able to wear a contact in that eye again. My mother reminded me yesterday that I was 16 when I started wearing them. That I went to the eye doctor and worked out a payment plan and brought those suckers home.

The good news is that my right eye isn’t great on far away but excellent close up so I can read!  But if you too suffer from anxiety you know that even that isn’t enough to keep you from spinning it into something much worse.

Thanks for listening and thanks to all of you who have messaged me encouraging words.


xx Patricia

The Journey of My Left Eye

Yesterday I was so excited to go to the Clinic. I just knew we were going to get good news. However, that was not the case. Tomorrow we will see if I need to have the surgery.

Before I get into the whining and moaning portion of the story, let me just say this, Dean McGee Eye Institute is one of the best places in the country if you have an eye issue. Everyone who works there is calm, kind, and understanding. Just walking in the building you feel calm. It’s quiet and smells really nice! From the Techs to the Residents to the long time Doctors, everyone is so caring.

Yesterday we were there for 3 and 1/2 hours. They did the usual exam and took their measurements. Then they spoke the words ” I think it’s time Dr. L, the Corneal Surgeon came in”. So in he comes, lovely man, gentle hands, giving orders. First I had to go have pictures taken of my eye. Like real Digital Camera pictures. Then it was off to the Ultrasound Lab. Never had an ultrasound of your eye? Well, it’s exactly what you would think. I got back to my room and in comes all 4 doctors. One numbs my eye and the next one is calling for a speculum. Speculum? I am only familiar with that term in the OB/GYN office, but nope, there is one for your eye. Still metal and from the look on OU Boy’s face, it must have been bad. He was shaking his head NO! Then they laid out the tiny metal scrapers so they could scrap the eye for cultures again. OU Boy is looking everywhere except in my direction. 

Image result for eye speculum images

After all of that, my doctor said, well I want you to come in Friday and we’ll see if I’m just going to have to go in and cut out the bad part and let that heal and then do a corneal transplant. All because after a month, I still am not sterile. Now in my head I am yelling What??? I’ve been taking 5 different antibiotics for a month, how much more sterile can I get? I left in tears and woke up this morning with the exact amount of pain you would expect from having your eyeball scraped.

Most days I am on top of this thing. Today is not that day. I hurt and I’m scared and I don’t have time for this mess!

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Thank you all for listening to me whine. Now I’m going to go cut my hair, because it keeps getting caught in the eye patch. Let’s see how that goes.


A Pirate’s Tale

It’s been almost 3 weeks since the eye incident. Still blind in the left eye, so if you are planning any shenanigans, that would be the side to stick to.

Yesterday I was hoping for good news. I mean 3 weeks is a long time. I’ve had a marriage that didn’t last that long! If you know me at all you know I have an issue with boredom. I can love someone/something madly and wildly on Monday and by Friday I’m like…Meh…

So this wake up every hour for drops in your eye stuff was getting old. The good Doctors Bailey and Patel were up yesterday. I especially like their nurse as she always has numbing drops up her sleeve or someplace on her. Trust me when these guys start their poking and pulling and prodding, you want those numbing drops. A side fact, they don’t prescribe them or give them away. Never! Anyhow, most  of these torture sessions last from 3 to 5 hours. I think a lot of it is them calling their friends in to take a look. Of course, they do ask if I mind. I’m the girl with the “worst corneal ulcer ever”. I’m thinking of selling tickets.

In the end, the thing is now about 3 and 1/2 mm. It started at 6 mm. Whoo Hoo! So I got to come home and have the drops stopped overnight and I will use a salve for that.

So I came home and slept for 12 hours straight. It felt really good except for all the white powder I woke up in. Either there was a wild, coke party in my bed last night or Corbin was eating powdered donuts in bed. Image result for boy eating powdered donuts

Through this process I have had to make my own fun. Like playing with Doctors. My first one was Dr. Jason Smart.Immediately he became Dr. Jason Bourne. Try paging that guy in a waiting room full of old men. Better than Viagra! Or just going to sit in the waiting room and wait for someone to ask why  you are there. Answer: I’m just here to get drugs. All eyes were on us. One lady even asked if we could do that. 

The next best thing was the Uber drivers. Obviously I can’t see anything so they take me back and forth to the hospital. Most are top notch. Good people who know where they are going and don’t talk to me. However….there have been a few. One who kept touching my arm and calling me ” Little Lady”, who even offered to take me anywhere anytime. I don’t think so. Then there was the guy who had just put out a blunt and didn’t say a word. The other guy told me a racist joke and was just a nightmare. The worst was a guy whose name I can’t pronounce but he wasn’t from the States and had a green soccer shirt on. We left the hospital and next thing I knew we were on MLK Blvd. We were in the Hood. And he was lost. And I couldn’t see crap. Thank goodness someone knew where we were and how to get home.

But the absolute best was getting in the car and it was someone I knew and hadn’t seen in a few years. He and his family have been friends of mine for a long time. He knew exactly where to go and how to get there and once we got home he opens his glove box and says, ” Hey I just got back from Denver the other day, want some candy?” Now that is some good Uber service!Image result for marijuana candy

Thanks for all of your comments and concerns, it really does mean a lot to me.  xxooP


The term written as “parlay” on the Pirata Codex was known as a right in the Code of the Pirate Brethren, set down by Morgan and Bartholomew, that allowed any person to invoke temporary protection and brought before the captain to “negotiate” without being attacked until the parley is complete.

The information below is from the 1940 Census. The Walsh’s are my people. As you can see, I wasn’t kidding about the Pirate thing.

Griffin Walsh Junior

  • 1940 United States Federal Census
  • Father: B G Walsh
  • Mother: Carrie L Walsh
  • Birth: 1929 – South Carolina
  • Residence: Blackbeard Island, McIntosh, Georgia – Age: 11


Image result for blackbeard island georgiaImage result for blackbeard island georgia

Image result for blackbeard island georgia

A beautiful place which is now a protected area. We were also on neighboring Sapelo Island, where my Grandfather worked for R.J.Reynold’s Plantation.

Now that we have established my sordid background, let’s get back to the title, Parley?.

It has been over two weeks now wearing this patch on my left eye. The pain is receding but I did something last night that I need to make right. Pain is a nasty little sucker. It can turn the meekest person into a raging lunatic.And if you know me then you know I am no where close to the word Meek.

For over 2 weeks I have been biting my tongue, being brave and trying not to kill anyone but last night I unloaded on OU Boy because I saw he had some whorish girl following him on Twitter. He doesn’t even know how Twitter works. I had just jumped on a kernel of something and blew my cork.  All I remember is him looking at me like I was Linda Blair from the Exorcist. Even I didn’t understand what was wrong with me.

So to teach him a lesson I slept in the crib. Yes, yes I did. Well, I didn’t actually get any sleep. It’s a crib, you know?

First thing this morning I called OU Boy and cried Parley?  Thank the Gods that this man loves me something awful, because if the shoe had been on the other foot, I would have just shot him and put him out of his misery. But not him. Never him. He knows me.

He knows I am scared out of my mind that I will never see again out of that left eye. He knows that I am barely keeping it together inside because I am so afraid. And the biggest thing he knows is that not being in control of everything in my world is not something that has happened a lot. Of course there have been situations, mainly deaths, that I couldn’t control, but the rest of my life was locked down. And now, I am in control of putting the drops in my eyes and taking my meds. That is it.

This is a man who had 2 heart attacks at age 32 and open heart surgery not to mention numerous stints. Here he is lucky just to be alive and I’m throwing Scarlett O’Hara worthy hissy fits because one of my eyes is blind. So today this is what I feel like.


And to the man I will always love, I am sorry. Don’t everyone pass out at once, remember I can’t see you all laying on the floor! xxoo P


When Last We Met….

When we last left you we were hurdling towards the Trauma Center in an ambulance during rush hour traffic. But let’s back up just a bit.

Why Being in the Back of the Ambulance Brings Me Comfort:

When lovely nurse Meghan brought the EMT team back to load me up, she introduced them both. A short blonde named Jessica and a tall, dark guy name Jessie. Jessie was very considerate and went and got me a warm towel to hold over my face on the way out to the ambulance. So in we go and I am immediately getting anxious. It is already in the high 90’s outside and inside this hot box was at least 10 degrees hotter.

I’m looking at this Jessica person telling her I am in severe pain from the pain shot and I am going to get sick. Well Thank the Gods for OU Boy! He quickly grabbed a blue bag and helped me out. Jessica meanwhile is trying to write up her notes for the trip or something. I am not saying she was on something but OU Boy had no problem saying it.  For one thing she says, ” So you are 5’2? Oh my gosh, me too!” We are looking at her as if she has sprung horns and a tail. Uh, no I am 5’10” ( and 1/2 but I’ll let that go). Then she starts calling the other hospital telling them they have me and all my stats. All wrong. Finally she says in a very chipper voice, “Oh, I see now, I got the wrong paperwork.”

Up front Jessie is driving like he just stole this bitch and we’re headed for Colorado. Finally we make it to a hospital and things were looking up.

They were having mini fits over my blood pressure until they realized I can’t wear an adult cuff. Sorry, too skinny.Lest you think I was handling all of this like a champ, you should know that I was not. At some  point I remember trying to grab my purse in the ambulance so I could at least pepper spray this bitch. And I am not proud of the fact that they then brought in a gunshot victim and I still wasn’t budging from my spot in triage. Seriously pain makes me a mean person. That whole survival thing kicks in and I was not nice.purseinambulance

Me wrestling with OU Boy for my Bag of Weapons.

I did keep telling OU Boy to keep writing things down because once this was over I could use this shit.

Next time I’ll introduce you to Dr. Jason Smart, my doctor who looks just like the smart guy on Criminal Minds. I call him Dr. Jason Bourne, just because it sounds cool and all the old men in the waiting room look so hopeful when they hear Dr. Jason Bourne to ICU.

Seriously, thank you all for being there for me. You make me laugh and think about other things instead of crawling into my little cave and crying and feeling sorry for myself. I thought I was special, I thought when they said a very long road it didn’t apply to me. Give me a few days and I’ll be fine! Not so. It is going to be a long road and I have chosen to laugh about it. And use it to get out of things I don’t want to do. xxoo P