“She's not wearing much,” Sabrina complained, “and what she is wearing, you can see through,” she said as Annie laughed.
“She can get away with it,” Annie commented.
“How're you doing?” Tammy asked her as they gathered around her bed, waiting for the doctor.
“Okay, I guess. I can't wait to get these bandages off. The tape itches, and I'm so sick of sitting here in the dark. I want to see you guys,” she said, smiling, as her sisters said nothing. Sabrina handed her a glass of juice with a straw and helped her get it to her lips. “How's Dad?”
“He's doing okay. Thank God for Chris, he's keeping him occupied. I think they're fixing every door in the house, making sure every drawer rolls smoothly, changing lightbulbs. I have no idea what they're doing, but they seem very busy.” Annie laughed at the image. And the doctor walked in five minutes later. He exuded an air of quiet confidence, and smiled as he looked at all four sisters. He had already seen them several times that week, and had commented that Annie was a lucky woman to have such strong family support. He said it wasn't always that way between sisters. And he realized now that he was facing all four, not just one, for this painful moment.
He told Annie that when he took the bandages off, she was not going to see anything different than she did now. As he said it, Sabrina held her breath, and Tammy reached out and squeezed her hand. This was awful. Candy was standing beside them.
“Why won't I see anything different?” Annie asked, frowning. “Does it take a while for my vision to come back?”
“Let's try it,” he said calmly, and carefully began removing the bandages she had worn for the last week. Annie asked him then if there were stitches he had to take out, and he said there weren't. The stitches were all dissolving ones, and were inside. Many of the cuts on her face had begun to heal by then. Only the gash on her forehead was likely to leave a scar, but if she wanted to, she could cover it with bangs. Or have it taken care of later. Candy had been putting vitamin E oil on her sister's face all week.
Once the gauze bandages were removed, the only thing left were the two round patches that covered her eyes. The doctor glanced at Annie's sisters then, and finally back at her.
“I'm going to take the eye patches off now, Annie,” he said carefully. “I want you to close your eyes. Will you do that for me?”
“Yes,” she said in a whisper. She had the feeling that something was happening, and it didn't feel right. She didn't know what it was, but the tension in the room was palpable and she didn't like it.
He took the patches off, and Annie had done what she was told and closed her eyes. He shielded her eyes with his hand then, and asked Sabrina to close the venetian blinds. Even in her blindness, the sunlight could be a shock. Sabrina did it, and they waited, as he asked Annie to open her eyes. There was a moment of terrifying silence in the room, as Sabrina expected her to scream, but she didn't. Instead she looked puzzled and mildly frightened, but he had warned her.
“What do you see, Annie?” he asked her. “Do you see light?”
“A little, like a very pale gray,” she said specifically, “kind of a pale gray, and black around the edges. I can't see anything else.” He nodded, and tears rolled silently down first Tammy's cheeks, and then Sabrina's. Candy tiptoed from the room. She couldn't stand it. It was just too painful to watch. Annie heard the sound of the door whooshing closed but didn't ask who it was. She was concentrating on what she saw, and didn't. “I can't see anything, just that pale gray light in the middle of my field of vision.”
He held a hand in front of her face then, with his fingers spread apart. “What do you see now?”
“Nothing. What are you doing?”
“I'm holding my hand in front of your eyes.” He signaled to Sabrina to open the blinds again, which she did. “And now? Is the light any brighter?”
“A little. The gray is a little lighter, but I still don't see your hand.” She sounded breathless, and was beginning to look very frightened. “How long will it be before I can see normally again? I mean everything, like shapes and faces and color?” It was a painfully direct question, and he was honest with her.
“Annie, things happen sometimes that can't be fixed. We do every single thing we can to fix them, but once they're broken, or connections are severed, we can't link them up again, no matter how hard we try. One of those pipes that hit you in the accident severed your optic nerves, and the veins that feed them. Once that happens, it's pretty close to impossible to repair the damage. I believe that you will see light and shadows in time. You may even see forms and outlines, and you may even have an impression of color, very much like the way you do now. The light is very bright in this room now, that's the pearl-gray color you see. Without that, the gray would be darker. That may improve slightly over time, but only very slightly. Annie, I know this is hard to conceive of now, but you're very lucky to be alive. The damage could have been far greater- your brain was not permanently damaged in the accident. Your eyes were. But, Annie, you could have lost your life.” It was a tough speech to make, even for him, and he was well aware that she was an artist. Everyone in her family had told him, but it didn't change the damage that had been done to her eyes. And no matter how much he wanted to, there was nothing he could do about it. That didn't make it any easier for Annie now.
“What are you saying to me?” Annie said, looking panicked. She turned her face toward where she thought her sisters were, and could see nothing. And even the gray she had seen at first seemed dimmer now, as she turned her face away from the light. “What do you mean? Am I blind?” There was an infinitesimal pause before he answered, as her sisters stood there looking as though their hearts would break for her.
“Yes, Annie, you are,” the doctor said quietly, and held her hand. She yanked it away from him and started to cry.
“Are you serious? I'm blind? I can't see anything? I'm an artist! I have to see! How can I paint if I can't see?” How could she cross a street, see a friend, cook a meal, or even find her toothpaste? Or get out of the way of traffic? Her sisters were far more concerned about the more basic issues than her art. “I have to see!!” she said again. “Can't you fix it?” She was sobbing like a child, as Sabrina and Tammy reached over to touch her so she would know they were still there.
“We tried to fix it,” the surgeon said miserably. “We had you in surgery for five hours, just working on your eyes. The damage was too severe. The optic nerves had been destroyed. It really is a miracle you're alive. Sometimes miracles come at a high price. I think this is one of those. I'm really sorry. There are a lot of things you can do to have a good life. Jobs, travel, you can lead a fully independent life. People without sight do remarkable things in the world. Famous people, important people, ordinary people like you and me. You just have to take a different approach than the one you had before.” He knew his words were falling on deaf ears. It was too soon, but he had to say something to give her hope, and she might remember it later. But for now, she had to absorb the shock of being blind.
“I don't want to be ‘a person without sight’!” she shouted at him. “I want my eyes back. What about a transplant? Can I have someone else's eyes?” She was desperate and ready to sell her soul to get back her sight.
“There's too much damage,” he said honestly. He didn't want to give her false hope. She might see light and shadows one day, but she would never have her sight. She was blind. At her father's request, another ophthalmologist had examined her records that week, and had come to all the same conclusions.