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| Photo copyright Aji, 2015; all rights reserved. |
We spent the day at hard physical labor: I got the last of the garden in; together, Wings and I filled giant sandbags; and he and a couple of the guys brought the water down for our first round of irrigation (easily a month later than usual, thanks to all the early rain).
In between, we spent the day watching this guy closely.
But yesterday, we got our miracle.
No one's going to believe it. But I need folks to believe me when I say that we have dealt with these issues multiple times over many years. We know what we're looking at, what we're dealing, how and when and even whether to treat certain things.
Griffin's fundamental problem is a flare of the CVS. Not surprising, given the unsettled nature of the weather and the rapid-fire fluctuations in barometric pressure. It's an inflammation of the conjunction of the brain stem and the inner ear, and it causes terrible vertigo.
It is not a stroke, but it can be accompanied by one, when everything goes exactly wrong.
Which is apparently what happened at mid-morning yesterday.
Back in 2007, we dealt with a stroke with BearGirl. She had the telltale exploded retina, in addition to the neurological symptoms. The retina damage is not something that reverses itself. Then again, neither is a skull concavity more than an inch deep, and Grif reversed that, too, six years ago when he was hit by the truck.
Yesterday morning, Griffin's left eye (the only one in which he has any appreciable vision any longer) showed the telltale white starburst, like exploding fireworks captured in amber, in that eye. The other one, of course, has long been covered with a cataract from the accident. he had NO vision. At all. Completely blind. And terribly depressed and not a little frightened as a result.
He was sleeping that deep sleep that is a precursor of a more permanent one. We've seen that before, too. When it's their time, it's a blessing. It's not his time.
His rest was occasionally interrupted by falling over (from a lying-down position, you understand), by clonus-like clawing of his limbs.
And then, toward evening . . . his balance stabilized. Not great, but better. And the left eye cleared.
Oh, he still has the early-stage cataract that has been developing for months. But the starburst? Gone. The damage? Gone. His vision? Fully returned.
Yes, I know no one believes me. You're going to think it was a trick of the light. It was not. Wings saw it, too. I did not need to point it out to him; he saw it immediately, and it terrified him as much as it did me. He also checked his eyes for vision; nothing. No stimulus, including a penlight, produced a result.
And today, he's wobbly; he still needs the Pred and the Dramamine. But he can walk. He can eat.
He can see.
Sometimes, you get a miracle.
Postscript: The photo I used in yesterday's post was one I took two weeks ago; I didn't have the heart to take one of him yesterday. The one above? That's this morning.
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2015; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
