Losing the Great American Liberty

In October 2009, the vitreous hemorrhage that resulted from a dose of Cialis filled the eye with blood. I saw everything through a red glow. I could not drive at night but managed for a while in the daytime, to places I knew. The visual effect those first few weeks was nothing more than looking through rose colored lenses. The discoloration darkened everything, but in the light I could function OK. I pressed on with life.
That changed with the healing process. He blood began to separate from itself and mix into the eye. It contaminated the vitreous fluid and the fluid in the dense existing cataract. This changed the visual effect from simple discoloration to a dense reddish cloud. The cloud obscured everything. Within a couple weeks I was uselessly blind at all things. At that point I stopped driving on my own. No one needed to take my keys away. I am typically responsible for myself and I recognized the dangers I posed to myself and society without needing some catastrophic event to smash the point into my skull.
I was off the road before the end of October 2009. Except for one time, I did not drive until late April 2010. I loved driving almost as much as I loved reading, which I also could not do. I was feeling great losses at this time.
The sole attempt at driving was during the only accumulating snowfall of that season. I felt lucky that it had been a light snow season where the storms all seemed to mystically miss Rhode Island. If I had been well I certainly would have driven to Virginia with the signs on the plow just to make money that year. Transported by teammates and reliant on them to know what pins remained target of the second ball, I still bowled twice per week. Otherwise I stagnated at home.
I almost wish I had some amusing story to relate with the attempt at driving that winter. I got behind the wheel in an attempt to plow my own parking area.
I quickly realized it was not something I could do. The ruddy haze was too blinding.
I carried the expectation that the cataract surgery would restore me. The treatment at the time was "preventative" PRP surgery then cataract replacement, and the doctors fostered those expectations.
Cataract replacement did remove a layer of the ruddy haze. I opened my eyes in bed the night of the surgery and seeing farther and better than I had since childhood.
Then I got up and moved. That was the first I learned of the vitreous fluid problem. An immense pool of blood still resided in the center of the eye. The blood and vitreous fluid acted as oil and vinegar. So long as I was perfectly still, the elements separated and I could see clearly. I could see the bubble of blood floating at the top of the eye. Any movement mixed the bubble with the natural eye fluids.
I’d be going nowhere fast, not until the blood dissipated, and no one could tell me when or if that would be.