"The blindness will be temporary, I guarantee it. In six weeks you'll be seeing fine again."
It was a relief. Quite a contrast to a few short hours ago when Deb was nearly panic stricken, thinking she would be blind the rest of my life.
The entire day into the evening had been stormy, a torrential downpour with the occasional cluster of thunder and lightening. Deb didn't mind, as did her son. Both were content to go about their business, Deb working from home in her home office, Matt taking his remote college classes in his room. The flickering lights only briefly caused a little panic, considering how dependent both were on power and internet. But like storms in the past, they've always had decent luck when it came to the utilities.
As the storm raged on, they both broke from their day activities for dinner, chit-chatted with warm, friendly conversation as they have for many months now. Ever since having to stay home together nearly full-time, they became very close. Deb liked the company since she split up with her husband nearly a decade ago. Matt liked the company too, for his dating activities had been set aside in sake of studying. Together they found an unspoken companionship that was comforting and satisfying.
After dinner they cleaned up and went about their evening activities. Weekends they usually spent more time together in the evenings, usually watching a couple of movies together. This being a weeknight, they went about their usual evening activities. Matt retired to his bedroom to play video games. Deb as usual relaxed on the couch in her home office to read a book.
Just around bedtime Deb went to the dining room to make sure the patio door was locked. She paused for a moment, looking outside through the sliding glass doors, mesmerized by the heavy rain hitting the concrete patio lit by the patio lights.
Suddenly without notice there was a purple bright flash of a lightening bold striking the metal patio table just feet past the windows. Deb reeled, staggering back into the dining room chairs and table with such a force the table tipped completely over. A large centerpiece vase flew across the dining room, smashing on the hardwood floor.
Matt heard all this from upstairs, already startled by the sound and sight of such a close lightening strike. He jumped from his computer and ran to see what happened. Downstairs he found his mother crumpled in a ball moaning, holding her eyes.
Without hesitation Matt called 911 then checked on her condition. She moaned, telling him what had happened. He comforted her as best he could while they waited for the ambulance.
Luckily for Deb she was an experienced former ICU nurse. Her instincts kicked in: calm the patient (in this case herself for the first time), stay in the present moment, and assume everything will be fine. Calming down a bit, she recalled relevant bits and pieces of her medical training and experience, self-diagnosing as best she could. She knew in her gut that this would be temporary, and that thought held her together until the doctor later confirmed it.
Matt stuck with her the entire time, holding her hand for most of the trip to the hospital. When the doctor told them the good news, that this would indeed be temporarily, a wave of relief swept over both of them.
The doctor continued. "Yes, six weeks. But you'll have to keep these bandages on your eyes to give them a rest." Matt and Deb both nodded. "Matt, will you be around to help her out?"
Matt explained to the doctor how he was in school but learning remotely. He liked the idea of helping his mother's recovery.
Deb was pretty familiar with her work medical leave policy, and knew that she would have no problem taking the time to recover. In a strange way she was looking forward to a forced vacation, even if she wouldn't be able to see during it.
By the time they left the hospital and took an Uber home, they were both in positive spirits.
When they finally arrived home it was well past midnight. Matt helped guide his mother into the house, and even though the storm had finally stopped, he paid close attention to the walkway to make sure she didn't slip on the still-wet concrete. Once inside he helped her find her way to the bedroom without tripping over anything. In the bedroom she felt her way around, maneuvering mostly by muscle memory, placing her cellphone on the nightstand next to her, tossing her jacket on a chair, and collapsing on the bed in her clothes.
"Matt, do you mind plugging my phone in and deactivating the alarm? I'm going to need as much asleep as I can get."
"Sure mom," he said, hooking the phone and attempting to open the phone. It was set up to unlock with her face recognition. "Mom, what's your phone pin?" She told him, enabling him to disable the alarm. "Ok, all set."
"Thank you so much for everything tonight. You were wonderful." She reached up her arms towards where she assumed he was standing. Matt leaned down and hugged her for a long time, probably a few seconds longer than was appropriate, but considering all she had been through that evening, it was excusable. Within seconds of releasing the hug she fell asleep.
Matt was tired too, but before he went to bed, used the last bit of stamina to clean up the wreck in the dining room. He reflected on what had happened, thankful that nothing worse happened.
