THE REAL LIVEJOURNAL IDOL -- SEASON 10, WEEK 11
TWILIGHT TIME
I had never heard of the phrase "The Blue Hour" before Gary offered it as this week's prompt, but I used to love the twilight. That's pretty much true for my entire family: For many years my relatives and I would hold reunions in the town of Orleans on Cape Cod, and at dusk we would all go to Skaket Beach to watch the sun set into the bay... and we would not leave until after the light had completely faded from the sky. Indeed, one particularly memorable summer my sister Kathy and I rented a house on that beach with an elevated deck, and every evening all 4 of my siblings would bring all 8 of their children to hold an "ice cream social" and watch the day slowly deepen into night. Each and every time I would welcome the fading of the light as the sky turned various shades of blue... and as blue has always been my favorite color, it was hard for me to imagine a more wonderful experience.
Long ago I thought I would have taken great delight in the idea of being able to experience the "magic" of twilight all the time, but as the old saying goes you should be careful what you wish for, because I've been constantly experiencing twilight for the last three and a half years. Believe me when I tell you: it really is possible to have too much of a good thing... and it gets old real fast.
As I've mentioned in a few previous posts, I experienced a mild stroke in my visual cortex back in November 2013. Initially, the principal symptom was a significant section of my vision developed a permanent "blind spot"; that means a certain area in my field of view always seems extremely blurry. However, over time I noticed another problem: The world around me seemed significantly dimmer than I expected it to be. At first this issue wasn't too bad, as when I was out in full sunshine the light levels would seem to me what I would expect if the sky had been completely overcast... but over a period of months it reached the point where even under the brightest of lights I only perceive the world around me as if the sun had just set... and after the sun goes down things seem so dark that for a while I feared I might get lost while walking familiar streets, simply because I had such difficulty seeing where I was.
I did go see my regular doctor about this issue, but as he wasn't a neurologist he was completely unfamiliar with the problem, and as such he could offer me no answers. Eventually I consulted one of the best stroke experts in New York City as well as a neuro-opthamologist (a doctor who specializes in the vision center of the brain), and they explained that my problem was a side-effect of my stroke: a significant percentage of the neurons responsible for carrying the signals from my eyes to my brain had been destroyed by the stroke, so a lot of data that my eyes were sending was being "lost". Sadly, there is nothing I can really do about this; the only realistic treatment would involve stem cell therapy, and such treatments are considered to be highly experimental here in the United States. I did apply to a couple of clinical trials but I was rejected from each one because even if the therapy worked it would be impossible to accuartely gauge how much my vision had improved... and thus my participation would be useless for a proper medical research study.
Another side effect of my stroke was that for several months I would experience odd changes in how I perceived various colors: For a few days certain colors seemed to be especially bright and vivid to me, while other colors would seem somewhat faded by comparison... then over time a different color would seem to stand out from all the others; it wasn't quite like seeing the world through tinted lenses all the time but that's the best analogy I can come up with. I went to see the neuro-opthamologist again, and he explained to me that part of the area of my brain that processed colors had been damaged by the stroke, and the remaining neurons in that part of my brain were in the process of "rewiring themselves" to work around the damaged area. Again, there is no clinical treatment for this issue, though the expert said that my color perceptions would eventually stabilize, and to a certain extent I found it interesting how the color red would "jump out at me" for a few days, only to have the color yellow seem exceptionally vivid a few days later. That being said: Blue may be my favorite color, but I found it unpleasantly distracting when blue-colored objects seemed to sieze my attention for 4 days straight. Fortunately, the neuro-opthamologist was correct and I haven't experienced the odd issues with colors for nearly two years now... and for that I am extremely grateful. On the other hand, I think my vision has grown a bit dimmer in the past several months; though I don't trip over things or bump into objects, I definitely need to pay close attention to where I'm walking after dark.
While the aforementioned issue has impacted my life, I cannot say that I'm truly distressed by it. Let's face it: I can see where I'm going the majority of the time, and have no problem performing the usual daily tasks such as shopping or washing my laundry... and considering how at least one of my fellow competitors here in LJI is legally blind, I certainly don't want to sound like the issue has left me feeling like I've been crippled. I'll admit I can probably never safely drive a car after dark ever again, but I don't even own a car and the city I live in has an excellant public transportation system that literally operates 24 hours a day... so in the grand scheme of things I should be able to handle the aforementioned vision issues with little to no difficulty for the foreseeable future.
That all being said... The truth is that since the stroke I just don't enjoy sunsets anymore, as the falling darkness noticeably restricts my vision and mobility. On a blazingly bright sunny day, I perceive the world around me the way most people would at dusk; well enough to get around without difficulty... but frequently I find myself longing to perceive the bright white light of the sun the way that I used to, when everything around me seemed sharp and focused... instead of faded and dim. And though I can enjoy the colors of a sunset, I always have to literally watch my step as I slowly make my way back home.
Perhaps someday they will come up with an accepted therapy to restore my vision to the way it was... but until that happens, I will continue roaming through a world never more than partly illuminated, hoping that someday things will seem so bright to me that I'll actually need to squint my eyes. So please take my word for it: As beautiful as "The Blue Hour" may be, you do not want to experience it all the time, as I do. Something like that can only truly be appreciated in small doses...This post is an entry in The Real LiveJournal Idol (therealljidol) for Season 10, Week 11. It is based on the prompt "The Blue Hour".