“You’re holding your own,” he said as he straightened. “That’s a positive sign. Sometimes there’s deterioration. Your best option is still the surgery. There’s a better than ninety percent chance your sight will be restored to normal.”
Her stomach lurched. “But a ten percent chance I’ll be permanently blind.”
“I’ve never had it happen, but, yes, that’s a possibility. Izzy, if it would make you feel better, we can do one eye at a time. See how it goes.”
She shook her head. “If it went badly, I’d never do the other eye. It’s all or nothing.”
“That works for me. After the surgery, you’ll be in bandages for a week, then we take them off and witness the miracle.”
“You’re optimistic,” she grumbled.
“I’m a surgeon—it’s one part confidence, two parts ego. I need a couple of days to schedule it. I’m off next week on vacation but anytime after that.”
“Okay,” she said, oddly grateful that she couldn’t do it today, even if she wanted to. There was time. Time to think, time to assess the risk. “If the surgery fails, there’s no going back, right?”
Dr. Greenspoon hesitated. “There are always innovations,” he began.
“But I’d be dependent on a miracle.”
“Yes.”
She stood. “Okay, thanks for seeing me.”
He rose and squeezed her arm. “You’re a beautiful young woman. You have an excellent chance of fully restored sight. I know you’re afraid, but I do think your best option is to take a chance on the surgery.”
“I know.” Everyone was so free with advice. Of course no one else had to live with the consequences if things went wrong. “I’ll call the office when you get back and let you know what I’ve decided.”
“Take care, Izzy.”
Aaron was sitting in the waiting room when she walked up front. “And?” he asked.
“Nothing’s changed. I can have the surgery anytime after next week. There’s a good chance my sight would go back to normal.”
“So what are you waiting for? Why not go for it?”
“Because the alternative is being permanently blind forever. I can’t handle that.”
“You can handle anything.” Aaron put his arm around her. “You’re full of attitude. You’d manage. Look at Rita.”
“Rita’s a better person than I am.”
“It’s not about being a good person. It’s about not giving up. I would have thought you were the kind to move forward, no matter what.”
They walked outside. The sun was bright, but Izzy didn’t have to squint or put on sunglasses. It barely bothered her at all. What would it be like to be normal again? Was that possible? And if it wasn’t, could she live with the darkness?
“You face scary stuff all the time,” Aaron continued. “Didn’t you tell me you went swimming with sharks?”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“I got to pick the time and place. It didn’t just happen. And the consequences weren’t nearly this scary.”
“You mean losing an arm or a head is less frightening than being blind?”
“Something like that.”
“You’re a very weird person. You know that, don’t you?”
“So I’ve been told.”
IZZY COULDN’T SLEEP. No matter how many times she stretched out on her bed, she couldn’t relax. She got desperate enough to turn out the lights, but the total blackness wasn’t comfortable, either, so she clicked them back on.
Possible scenarios flashed through her mind. What would happen if she had the surgery and couldn’t see? How would she survive? She knew that taking the chance would ease things with her sisters and maybe with herself. She wouldn’t have held back out of fear anymore, which was great for family relations but left her with a much bigger problem.There were services, she told herself. Places where she could go to learn Braille and other skills. People had satisfying lives while still dealing with all kinds of handicaps. Maybe she could go to college and get a degree in something. Probably nothing in the fine arts department or, say, nursing, but something. She would get an apartment, maybe a guide dog. She would go shopping with Lexi and be a stylishly dressed blind person. Not that she’d ever been especially stylish before, but a girl could dream.
She stood and crossed to the window. As it was probably close to midnight, she couldn’t see anything, but she could pretend.
Of course if the surgery were a success, she would have her life back. She would be able to see and then do anything she wanted. Which posed nearly as big a question. What did she want? Her old life of thrill-seeking had lost a little of its charm. So then what? Did she still go to college and try to find something useful to do? And if she planned to live on her own and go to college either way, then did having the surgery really make that much difference?