Some doctor once told me that my problem was a freak of nature. Imagine the feelings a ten-year-old kid would have if a trained professional told her that Mother Nature screwed up. When I was three years old, some hot shot eye doctor found a little hole in the back of my eye. He told my parents that it wouldn't cause any problems, but to keep an eye on it. Of course, they couldn't tell a little child something like that. What could they say .. "When Mother Nature created you, she left something unfinished"? Since it wasn't causing any trouble, they put it in the backs of their minds, remembering only at the perpetual visits to our friendly neighborhood eye doctor.

As I grew, my parents never thought of telling me. In hindsight, I see this as their biggest mistake. In fourth grade, something very scary started happening. I thought it was my imagination, but it persisted. My vision in one eye began slipping away from me. We went back to the eye doctor ... he wasn't happy. His prognosis wasn't too cheerful either. My doctor - shall we call him Doctor Oakes? - said I might get a little sight back. Well, Dr. Oakes was wrong. He made me stop gym classes in school, I couldn't run, jump or play tag, and I had to stop practicing my flute as much.

After all this, it didn't get better. They sent me to a world-renowned specialist, whom I'll call Dr. X. I guess my doctors are actually nice guys, but, since they couldn't fix me, I hated them with a passion. They tried an early type of laser treatment - two days after I had my tonsils out. I think you can understand how betrayed I felt when it failed to work.

Four long years later, it was decided that I had to have immediate surgery. I was sent to too many doctors, and loathed them all, except for one. A doctor studying under Dr. X put a bright spot into what I saw as my dark void of sadistic jerks. Now I realize that they all cared about healing my eye. It's just that they forgot that there was a person attached to that eye.

That fabulous, painful surgery stopped my eye from getting worse, but I won't ever regain my missing sight. Sometimes I complain that I can't be a police officer or a pilot, my two ideal professions. When I have a bad day, and I really notice my lack of perception, I grumble about not making the softball team because my brain can't get a clear picture of the ball, or I yell at my brother for throwing something on my blind side. However, I've been discovering lately that I can do alot even without my sight. I can ski and ice skate and I think I might actually make the J.V. basketball team. Maybe I'll let Mother Nature live after all. n