The Gift of Sight: Miracle on 64th Street

 

We all come to times in life when there’s an obstacle we can’t get around. No matter what we do, we can’t find a solution. That’s when sometimes we turn to a higher power. And if we’re lucky, in the quietest, most miraculous way, the answer comes. This happened to my son, Paul.

When Paul was young, he was diagnosed with subluxed eye lenses (the lens is off center from the rest of the eye), which caused great distortion in his vision. Thick, custom-made contacts worked to a point, although his eyesight was always subpar. The only alternative was surgery someday, although we’d have to wait till he was an adult.

Over the years, my heart broke when Paul took his bi-annual eye test and could only see the largest letters, squinting and guessing at anything smaller. I wondered how it would impact his life and how he’d navigate the world.

When Paul turned twenty-three, we decided to try and find a surgical solution. But it wasn’t easy. We went from eye surgeon to eye surgeon and they all said the same thing. The operation was risky and not worth the chance. Keep using the contacts for now. Meanwhile, I saw how Paul’s vision affected every part of his life, including work.

After the fifth eye surgeon gave us the same answer, I decided to do something I’ve done many times. I turned the problem over to the universe. I prayed to God to send us an answer.

A few months passed and one day, while sitting at my desk, I had an idea. My husband Randy had gone to a wonderful Retinologist over the years in Stamford. And although Paul’s problem wasn’t this man’s forte, he might know someone who could help. He examined Paul and immediately knew where to send him – a colleague in Manhattan who specialized in Paul’s condition.

We met Dr. S., a thin, athletic, white-haired, constantly moving force of nature on 64^th Street. He cautioned us like the other doctors. Paul was too young for a full lens replacement. “However,” he said, watching our faces drop, “We can remove Paul’s lenses (which aren’t working anyway) and he can wear contacts until he gets older. In the meantime, he’ll be able to see.”

After deliberating, Paul decided to go for it, starting with the left eye. The day of the operation, Randy and I sat in a large room waiting for Paul’s name and status to appear on the Patient Update board. When we saw he was in surgery, my heart beat faster. I tried not thinking of the fact he’d be awake during the procedure, but in a “twilight state.” After an hour, we saw Paul was out. We both drew a deep breath, but wanted to see our son and hear he was okay.

We were called back to recovery where Paul sat in a blue surgical gown. A huge bandage covered his left eye. “I need coffee,” were his first words. To our relief, he seemed no worse for wear. Dr. S. came in, wearing scrubs, and reported everything had gone fine. “He’ll be seeing in no time,” he said with a big smile.

The next day, the bandage came off, and Dr. S. said Paul’s eye looked good. Over the next month, we took the train from Connecticut once a week to see Dr. S. and finally got the news we’d been waiting for. “Paul can be fitted for a contact.”

I took Paul to his regular optometrist who gave him a sample to try. Paul put the lens in his eye, looked up, and gasped. “Oh my God!” he said, looking around in wonder. It was the reaction we’d all hoped for. (And no, of course I didn’t cry, ahem). We left the doctor’s office with Paul taking in the world in ways he’d never seen – the cracks in the pavement, a blue jay in a tree, his own face in the mirror.

He had his second eye done several weeks ago and healing is going well. Soon, he’ll be fitted for his second contact lens and I look forward to my son seeing the world through two good eyes. He’ll be dependent on contacts a long time, but at least he can see. We couldn’t be prouder of our brave son.

I said to Paul the other day. “You’ll always remember the summer of 2019. You’ll always remember Dr. S. and his office on 64^th Street.” Paul smiled and shook his head in amazement. “You got that right.”

I also learned a lesson. Sometimes it never hurts to ask for a miracle.

(Postscript: Paul’s second eye healed beautifully and he has two perfectly functioning eyes now).

 

Have you asked for divine guidance and received it? Comments are always welcome and if you like, please share.

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