"It's an Ill Wind that Blows No Good"

For the first time this year, I visited the glaucoma specialist whom I had been seeing every two months for eight or nine years. Interestingly, my intraocular pressure was the lowest that it has ever been (that's a good thing), and my visual field test seemed to indicate somewhat less damage than previously (which I'm not sure is possible, as dead neural ganglion cells don't revive or get replaced). Glaucoma is thought by at least some specialists to be an autoimmune disease, and chemotherapy suppresses the immune system. Thus, chemotherapy may be efficacious for glaucoma-- or, at least, my chemotherapy regimen may be beneficial for my particular type of glaucoma. Until I got cancer, my only material ailment was glaucoma, which is to some extent heritable and from which my mother is now legally blind. In addition, my father suffers from wet macular degeneration, which makes it more likely than otherwise that my siblings and I will develop that cause of even more blindness than glaucoma. Thus, prior to my cancer diagnosis, I had worried about outliving my eyesight.

Over the last few days, although I am still instructed not to lift anything over five pounds in weight, my strength and stamina seem to be returning more rapidly than heretofore since the surgery. Today, I took advantage of beautful weather and walked over five miles, including two separate walks of two-and-a-half miles along the pathway paralleling the East River. It is a very nice walk, as I have to cross only two through streets going out and coming back. A highlight of the walk is an enclosed dog run, in which the dogs always seem to be frolicking together. I suppose they fight with each other sometimes; but as I walk by, I haven't seen or heard any signs of quarreling.