I Know It's Them
I know it's them. I don't get many letters. So I know who it's from. The envelope lingers on the doormat, sealing my fate.
I knew it was coming. Six months, was what they said. The months in-between seem to fly faster every time.
I know it's them, summoning me. I was hoping they had forgotten. I don't want to go. I hate that place, with its cold white corridors and unhelpful opticians. But its better to get it over with. At least the coffee shops will be open this time.
I don't want to go. But I must.
- Category: True Stories Told As Fiction
- Tags: anxiety, sight, Moorfields
6 comments add one below
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Christopher over 2 years ago
I hope everything goes as well as it can, Sarah. Thoughts and prayers are with you.
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Christopher over 2 years ago
And if it shows in your notifications that I voted for this several times it's because every time I hit it to vote it wouldn't light up until I posted my comment and then it showed up.
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Neville Hunt over 2 years ago
The same happens with me Christopher. It’s a glitch.
Sarah, it must be awful dealing with problems of the eyes. My daughter is partially-sighted, registered blind and I know how difficult it is for her. I can imagine how much you hate Moorfields, but it is a centre of considerable excellence. Sorry if the opticians are unhelpful and I echo Christopher’s comment.
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VerityAlways over 2 years ago
Sarah, you have great mettle, you will overcome these difficult strides. Fight it girl!
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Jamie Clapperton over 2 years ago
Hope it goes better than expected Sarah. :)
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Sarah Oakes over 2 years ago
Thanks everyone for your kind comments. I have to go back there tomorrow and dreading it. Partly because I hate the place and also partly because they don't know which visual impairment it is, or why it's there, or what's caused it, or anything at all to help me out. I get passed around doctors and given different diagnosis each time, leaving me frustrated and confused and anxious.
