With Nothing Left to Lose

Process and paperwork with the hospital helped delay the time between the December 14 setback and the reattachment surgery. As was or will be confessed elsewhere, I also lied about the surgery date or that I was having surgery at all.
The friend who raised the question of timing quoted his independent research that says retina reattachment surgery should be done within 24 hour after sudden retina separation. That is true, but doesn’t hold the same for diabetic retinapathy, which is a gradual rather than a sudden release of the retina from the back of the eye and/pr from the brain.
The diabetic malady is gradual. By Fall 2011 I knew things were going fast, even if I could not know for certain how much of the loss was retinapathy and how much rooted from all the other problems in my beleaguered eyes.
And let’s be real: my retina started separation after the third PRP session in January 2010, judging by the flashers. Can I blame this doctor for a one-month delay when those at Joslin let my condition further deteriorate for over a year while they strung me along with other "preparation fir the worst surgeries" that they had no real intention of doing?
I blame Joslin on an emotional level, but not on my cold logical rational patterns of thinking. No one wanted to do surgery on someone’s only functioning eye until there was absolutely nothing else to lose.
When my current doctor agreed to the surgery, she and I were in perfect agreement that I had reached that point. To her credit, she still made me seek a second opinion.
The rush to retinapathy reattachment is that once separated, the retina begins to harden. Once this happens, it no longer has the flexibility to be reattached as completely, or at all.
This is being written on 21 December 2011, a month before the surgery that could restore me to passable functionality or take it all away. If this is being read on the blog, either all went well enough for me to still navigate the computer, someone is helping me settle the affairs of this blog, or someone found and posted it posthumously. (Note 2/4/12: I am just barely able to do this myself.) Yeah, I’m fatalistic like that. While the doctor was realistic about the risks, I sensed true optimism from her. Chances are, all went well.