The Quest to Reinvent Myself

I was a physical person. Not a rock climbing, landscaping, house renovating, kayaking kind of physical. Rather I was a cookie baking, soup from scratch making, closet organizing,decorating, wallpaper hanging, leaf raking, dog walking kind of physical. I loved the feeling of accomplishment, not so much from "creating", but from "organizing". That was before Ms.

I worked as an optician for over 12 years. It was a career change for me coming from the field of retail. I thought I wanted to "help people". What I discovered was that my favorite part of the job was decorating the frame boards and keeping our desks tidy. I preferred straightening out our work area. Not so much the fabrication of the glasses though. It is a precise skill that uses metal and hard objects to form functional devices. I would rather work with soft fabric and scrunch it to make it fit. While opticians work in millimeters, I would rather measure an ooch or a scowtch. If you sew, you know what I mean! And then, sadly and admittedly, I discovered I was not so much into the "helping people" part of opticianry. The reality is it was more of a my glasses are crooked kind of complaining and whining. Yeah, there were more than a few people who truly appreciated my skills to realign their progressive lenses or reshape their bent frames. I loved the people who gushed appreciation when I simply changed their nosepads. Such a small thing to create huge comfort. But, unfortunately, one "oh shit" would wipe the whole slate clean. The patient who complained her glasses were too big or too small, too blue or too red were the majority of the customers.
I worked in a large office where I could have contact with the MDs and ODs if I wanted to. In general, they tried to project an atmosphere of openness, but for the most part, I felt my questions were irritating them. Oh, not all the docs! Some sincerely appreciated my attempts to help their patients! But again, one oh shit wipes the whole slate clean, and I would become acutely aware that I was cutting into the doctors chair time. Redoes cost money, and it would be a finger pointing battle of who messed up: was the prescription wrong, or were the glasses made wrong? Oh well, such is the responsibilities of every job. No matter where you work or what you do, that is what it means to be accountable.

As MS waged its relentless progression on my body, my left side became weaker. I could no longer adjust or fix glasses. After I fell once, I knew it was time to rethink things.After I fell the second time, my husband became concerned. The true wake up call came one day when the fire alarm sounded. An electrical problem on the 3rd floor of the building caused the alarm to go off. As we all headed outside to a cold winter afternoon, my friend went to get my coat. Others waited while I slowly navigated the stairs. They were worried about me. In reality, this was not good. I knew if it had been a true fullout disaster, they were risking their own safety to assure mine. It was that event that forced me to acknowledge that it was not right for me to continue to work.

It's coming up on one year that I've been home and acquired the dubious distinction of the label disabled. I've spent the year acknowledging the limitations MS has caused. I realize the importance of having a "can do" attitude rather than focusing on what I can't do now. I know I should use this life changing experience to rediscover myself. But I'm not an artist or a writer. I'm not a stargazer or a theologian. I don't have the answer yet to who I am or what I'll do. But I do have plenty of time now to think about it.