I think this was after my surgery.

In my last post, item #4 mentioned that I need to go to the eye doctor, but I just can’t bring myself to go: I have complete doctor burnout.

I’m in need of an optometrist for the fact that I am blind as a bat. I find myself reaching for the cheater reading glasses more and more.

However, I also need more than glasses.

I was born cross-eyed. When I was three, I underwent surgery to correct the problem. The surgeon told my parents at that time that I would need another surgery when I turned 18.

Age 18 passed with no surgery, age 28, age 38, age 48. Somewhere between 18 and 28, I consulted a doctor. About the only thing that stands out in that appointment is the fact that he (she?) told me I would be awake for the surgery. I hightailed it out of the office and never looked back. Awake? Kreebles.

When I started thinking about putting my big-girl panties on to conquer my fear of being awake during eye surgery to go consult another eye doctor—especially after two friends told me how happy they were with their lazy eye surgeries—I got diagnosed with Stage III breast cancer.

One to usually only go to a naturopath once or twice a year for a tuneup, suddenly I found myself going to an average of three doctor appointments per week: for everything from tests on my breast, bones, and brain, to nine heart tests performed because of the “Red Devil” regimen I was given.

My liver almost shut down, which caused a bunch of extra appointments.

Then, there have been all the surgeries I’ve had on my body: that eye surgery I mentioned earlier, three C-sections, the insertion of my port for chemotherapy, a mastectomy, the removal of my port, breast reconstruction. I feel like I’m going to be one big scar any day now.

Chemotherapy, surgeries, physical therapy and massage for my lymphedema… I think I’ve had enough appointments to last a lifetime.

When I get tired, you can see my eye wandering, like in this picture. September 4, 2016 – Bellingham Bay

The thought of going now to get a) reading glasses and b) surgery to correct my lazy eye? I just can’t do it. I know one of these days I will have no choice—because both problems are getting worse—but for now, I’m going to stay away from as many doctors as possible, hope my cancer doesn’t come back, and enjoy living my life to the fullest instead.