The thief

There's a burglar on the prowl

And he's right around the cornea;

He's called the "thief of sight,"

The ubiquitous glaucoma.

He's silent, he's invisible. 

He's neither heard nor seen.

He'll smash your precious window

If you disregard the screen.

He's a slippery, dangerous felon.

And he needs to be arrested

But it's up to you to do it

Stop Glaucoma, GET TESTED

(From the World Glaucoma Association that I know belong to.)

So we were told today that surgery is for sure and that it will happen this month and it may or may not make a difference. I felt it perfectly fitting that as this judgement was being pronounced the Heavens opened up with thunder, lightning, and a downpour of rain. For just a moment the Heavens were crying right along side of my heart while my face stayed perfectly still so as not to scare or worry my sweet little girl who has a big road ahead of her. My fear is immeasurable. My worry monumental. My tears constant. My prayers never-ending. Constantly pleading that we aren't too late, that the thief didn't get everything, that a year from now this worry will be gone but her eyesight will remain.