myjourneysinsight

I NEVER WANTED TO FLY ALONE

Posted on April 3, 2015 by Judy

I am excited share many beautiful photos on my blog from my trip last week to Oregon.

Link for lyrics, recordings and other stories: YOU ARE MY WINGS

I was determined to overcome my eye condition. Planning a trip seemed like a way to prove to myself that I was still able to enjoy life. I decided to go to Oregon, which was only a two-hour plane ride away. I planned to visit my friend, Sonia, who had moved to an assisted living facility in Portland seven months earlier.

It would also be an opportunity for me to meet the wonderful art directors I worked with. For the last three years I had received many terrific assignments from the Tillamook Cheese Company and their art agencies were located in Portland.

My 18-year-old son asked if he could join me. It sounded like a great idea; plus he knew Sonia well because she was a former teacher of his.

This picture was taken at a party for Sonia before she moved away.

My post title is the first line from my song “You Are My Wings.” I recently sang a vocal for the new arrangement of that song, so those words came into my mind. Yes, I was glad I wasn’t flying alone!

Our flight left late at night. My son took the window seat and was excitedly snapping pictures after take off. Both of us agreed the city looked like glitter below us.

As I continue this post, I am going to intersperse comments from people from a dry eye support group I belong to on Facebook. Their words will be in different colors and represent many different people. My own words to the forum will be in black bold. The post began with one member voicing her worries about taking a trip with dry eye disease.

Since I don’t know anyone personally who has dry eye like I do, I’ll cry to you guys about it! I’m going on a trip with friends later this month. Normally it would be a fun trip and I’d be excited about it, but now that I have this dry eye thing I’m dreading it. This condition, which sounds like a mild inconvenience to people who don’t have it, is really having a big negative impact on my life. I know there are much worse things. I guess this is how it’s going to be from now on and I’ll have to adjust, but right now I’m still shocked at how debilitating it can be!

I completely understand. I’ve felt reluctant to take any trips away from home because of my dry eye condition. I like to “feel safe” and be home when the pain overwhelms me. It is one of the sadder realizations I’ve come to by having this horrible condition.

Our flight would arrive in Portland near midnight. My eyes were constantly bothering me in the airport; once my son and I were on the plane I closed them. My son was so excited and I was very happy he was with me.

I decided to listen to my music for a little while, but then I became very emotional and tears spilled from my eyes. It was embarrassing and I wasn’t sure if I was crying from joy or sadness. But I did notice that my eyes felt better after releasing those tears.

It’s a stunner, isn’t it? People have no conception of the life impact unless they’ve experienced it. The adjustment process is not easy but you will get there! Sometimes the mental challenge is as big as the physical one… that gradual shift from feeling defeated and limited to grappling and taking control, embracing the tools and strategies to make it through.

Your words echo mine exactly…the part about others not getting it really rings true.

The worst part is other people’s complete lack of understanding! If someone asks what’s wrong and I answer that I have dry eyes, they look at me like I’m stupid and say, “Why don’t you just put drops in?” I SO feel your pain !

Our plane landed and my eyes hurt; I poured eye drops into them, hoping they would calm down. The fogginess and irritation were driving me crazy. I followed my son through the airport and prepared myself to drive a rental car.

During the plane ride, I kept digging through my purse, hoping I’d find an important piece of paper. It contained the gate code and room number where we would be staying.

Before we boarded the plane, I called my older son. He looked in my desk drawer and didn’t find it there either. I wondered how it had disappeared.

My youngest son squeezed my hand and said, “Mom, stop worrying about finding that paper. We’ll figure out a way in. Why don’t you just look at this as an adventure?”

With those words, I grinned. My son probably learned that from me!

I had an airport TSA guy question me as to why I had so many eye drops. After all, I was “just going to New York”. I fear running out of drops in the middle of a trip, so I carry a lot. But other than being prepared, don’t let it change your life too much. The people close to me understand now that I am capable of conversations with my eyes closed. Keep getting out there and enjoying life.

That’s why I love this group, full of people who understand exactly how crappy this condition is.

You must know that there are others like me who share your pain, I seldom go anywhere and don’t want to think about traveling for vacation.

We safely reached the facility where we would be staying. Someone let us in when we pushed a night buzzer. It wasn’t easy to determine the room where we were assigned to, but an elderly gentleman figured it out.

By 1:00 a.m., I was collapsed in bed and amazed that everything had gone smoothly. My son was right; it was an adventure.

I also realized that taking this trip with my son was joyful and that was the reason I had cried earlier.

I completely understand what you are going through. After dealing with eye problems for a year I finally went to the doctor; Severe Chronic Dry Eye was the diagnosis. So far, I haven’t found much relief, but being in this group has helped. You don’t really understand what it is until you have it, and then you can sympathize with anyone else who has it.

It might take a long time to feel better but it will happen. Don’t get frustrated. I know we have all thought that we’ll feel like this forever but things do change. And lately there have been a handful of new drugs in clinical trials that will hopefully be put on the market.

There were other challenges for me by staying at an assisted living facility. Everywhere I looked there were triggers of intense memories; only a few years ago I was very involved with my parents’ care. Now both were gone and that was still something I was adjusting to.

The next morning we looked forward to seeing Sonia. She gave us a tour and proudly introduced us to all the residents.

Meals were lavish and communal – at every meal there were different people at our table. So many stories could be written just from those mealtime conversations. I was especially moved when Sonia whispered to me, “That man across from you is the best son-in-law in the world. Every weekend, he travels quite a distance to visit his mother-in-law sitting there next to him.”

Then I found out the rest of the story. His wife had died of cancer a short time ago. He had promised her before she died that he would look after her mother. I felt tears welling up inside as I sat with them.

He was very friendly and told us places we could visit while staying with Sonia in Portland. On our first day, we drove to see a famous waterfall named Multnomah near the Columbia River Gorge. We were told over and over how lucky we were that it was such a clear day. Normally it rained almost every day in the springtime.

I used to not go anywhere, but then I started to face my fears about socializing with others. I think it’s because you never know how your eyes will behave and stress doesn’t help. Usually, I just say to myself nobody’s perfect. I just tell people straight out that I have eye problems. It has taken me ages to get to this point and I have a lot of anxiety.

I understand completely. This condition has completely changed my life. I’ve had to quit my job. I am doing some volunteer work now, but some days I feel so lost and alone. I miss the capable person I used to be.

I was very inspired by the beautiful scenery. Only a week ago, I discovered a few beautiful chords that I wanted to add lyrics to. Perhaps this was what I would write about.

Best of all, was seeing my son’s face as we hiked along the misty trail. He noticed I was taking a lot of close up pictures. He reached down to pick a leaf that had tiny droplets on it and asked me to take a picture.

Just get out; don’t let it stop you – don’t let it win. I am doing my best to travel and enjoy life with my husband at my side. He’ll hold my hand when I have to close my eyes because of the pain.

I’ve struggled a lot with the horrible dry eye cycle of sinking into hopeless depression – and having my eyes feel even worse when I’ve been discouraged. But I can say with complete honesty that I have good days where I accept this condition when it’s not torturing me. I miss the feeling of “normal” and probably always will. I guess this is the “new normal” and I’m grateful when it’s not like it was at the beginning! I cannot let go of hope and will continue to search for anything that brings relief.

Even though I couldn’t escape from my foggy vision or eye pain, I thoroughly enjoyed our drive and hike near Multnomah Falls.

We stayed with Sonia for three days. My son and I went exploring on our own the next day. I especially loved taking pictures at a beautiful Japanese garden. The koi were magnificent.

One of my son’s favorite outings in Portland was to a huge bookstore named Powell’s. While he looked at his favorite books I actually found one that I was excited to buy. The paintings of apples in watercolor were gorgeous.

On every outing my son kept asking me, “Mom, how are your eyes?” I appreciated his caring but felt sad because I knew he was constantly worrying about me.

After three days we bid farewell to Sonia. We decided to head out and explore the Oregon coast. The scenery from Portland toward the ocean was pastoral and I saw landscapes that reminded me of one of my first watercolor paintings. Then I remembered that my reference had come from a book about the Pacific Northwest.

This was one of my first watercolor paintings in college. It hung in my parents’ house for many years and is a bit damaged (not really visible here).

Unfortunately, the drive was very tiring for my eyes. We were almost at the coast when we were diverted by construction and I became confused. Even with GPS, it was hard to find our way back and it added another hour to our travel time.

After looking at a few hotels, we found a comfortable one across from the beach. I was so grateful to collapse and rest my eyes.

I think what’s hardest is not being able to depend on your eyes. I am a visual person. The discomfort of the dry eyes changed my life so drastically. I used to be a fairly social person. Now I feel like a hermit. It takes such an effort to get myself out the door many days. I feel so lonely. And it seems that my friends and family have moved on without me. I’m so grateful for this support group. It keeps me going.

Your words made me cry – so true. I am also very isolated and get sad when I see pictures of myself with bright open eyes. I can see my eye pain in pictures now. But other people don’t really see or understand that pain. My eyes are foggy and uncomfortable – but I’m not impaired like other people are with this disease because I can drive and work. Still, the isolation comes from not feeling great about being out and about – traveling, going shopping etc. When my eyes hurt, all I want to do is retreat.

My son wanted to stay in the room. It wasn’t dark yet and I decided to walk alone to the beach. I sat on a driftwood log and watched young children dancing in the surf. Couples strolled by and dogs frolicked in the onshore waves. Soon the light became dim and it was time to leave.

After walking under the coast highway, I passed a grassy area. I sat down at a picnic table and texted my daughter. In the middle of our texting, she called me. I began crying when I heard her voice. We talked for half an hour and it was almost dark when I hung up. I pulled myself together and went back to the hotel room where my son was. He wasn’t at all worried about me, which was a good thing.

We all know this disease is horrible to the point that quality of life is adversely affected, even the ability to work. But worst of all, is the chronic pain, aching, stinging, burning that no one can understand. And the depression and anxiety that ensues because of the isolation and wearing down from constant pain.

The next two days, my son and I explored different beaches. He especially enjoyed a tour of the Yaquina Head lighthouse. Before heading back to Portland, we drove to Tillamook Cheese Factory. We were given royal treatment there and it was a most wonderful day. I plan to write more about Tillamook on my Art blog soon.

Your stories have made me speechless. This is my life as well. I have to pick and choose why I leave the house because I know it could very likely trigger a flare up. It has greatly impacted my income and social life but, most of all, the uncertainty of the next “flare up” and the isolation has caused me anxiety and depression. It’s priceless to connect with others who understand this.

I think you summed it. Our eye issues cause detachment from life – and I miss the connections I once had. But ironically, I have learned so much from this condition about myself. I use this word a lot – insight. I’ve searched deep within to discover empathy and focus on small blessings to keep myself going. This is a precious connection for me to know that others understand the pain that I deal with every moment of my day!

Seabluff

After touring the Tillamook Cheese Factory, I drove back to Portland through the Tillamook Forest. It was raining and my eyes were very concentrated on the road. After four hours we found a hotel near the airport that worked out well for us.

On the following day I planned to visit two different art agencies that I worked with on the Tillamook account. My son told me to go on my own because he wanted to relax in the hotel all day. I was slightly disappointed at first. But I didn’t say anything; the last thing I wanted to do was drag him along.

Being alone made me anxious because the streets of Portland were very complicated. It was going to rain and even though I had GPS, with my eye condition it was tough. But then I realized that I wouldn’t have my son barking commands at me. I could even sing in the car if I wanted to.

I took a deep breath and left myself plenty of time to get there. Everything worked out fine; I found the two agencies and even managed to stay dry somehow!

Meeting the people I had only spoken with was wonderful. I was so glad I had planned to do this.

When I returned to the hotel in the late afternoon, I was tired but energized. It was our last night and I surprised myself. I decided I had the courage to perform at an open mic in Portland. I grabbed my guitar and my son and I headed off.

The location was at a restaurant/bar and that particular open mic had been there for a long time. We ordered dinner and I signed up to play; I was going to be the second performer.

When my turn came I realized it was very different playing at a restaurant compared to Kulak’s Woodshed where I normally performed. It was so noisy that I couldn’t hear myself while singing. I was told I could play three songs and my son took one picture of me before I started.

The audience was warm and very nice. Later on, a woman came over to me and said, “You remind me of Joni Mitchell.” I was very touched and considered that a huge compliment.

We went home the next day and my son took a “selfie” picture of us on the plane. I was glad to be home and proud that I was able to travel despite my eye condition. The day after my return, I had an appointment with a top eye specialist and was hopeful that he might be able to help me.

It has been very hard living this way. I have definitely lowered my expectations about being “joyful.” I only want to live my life without constant pain.

During this trip, I ate far too much. I knew it was to numb myself and that it was not good for me. My awareness of that made it even worse.

But celebrating my courage is important to me. I continue to hold onto hope even though sometimes it feels like I’m losing my grip.

Seeing the beautiful pictures brings my smile back. And of course, knowing that my son will always have wonderful memories of our time together is the best part of all.

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Tagged beach pictures, beach waves, Blossoms, composing, coping with PVD, creativity, dealing with pvd, discouraged, discouraged about healing, dry eye, dry eye disease, dry eye regimen, dry eye support, dry eye syndrome, dry eyes, eye discomfort, eye issues, eye pain, eye problems, eyesight adjustment, eyesight issues, finding a cure, foggy vision, forest, Friendship, having hope, healing and grief, holding on to hope, hope, hope for healing, hope of healing, hopeful and optimistic, inspiration, Japanese Garden, Judy Unger, Koi, Living with dry eyes, living with PVD, loss, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, maintaining hope, music and healing, optimism, Oregon coast, Portland, Posterior Vitreous Detachment, remedy for dry eyes, seashore, songwriting, staying hopeful, staying positive, travel to Portland, waterfalls | 5 Comments

I WISH SOMEHOW I COULD FLY

Posted on March 24, 2015 by Judy

The crystal swan above was one of my mother’s favorites. It is in the painting of mine above called “Perfume Medley.” I used that image for my song “You Are My Wings.” Last month, George and I created a new arrangement for it.

I love to envision my life as a musical. No matter what I am going through, my songs uplift and guide me.

For the past few weeks, I have been feeling down. I continued to sing at a nearby recording studio vocals for songs that I was working on despite that. When I sang vocals for my song “Music Saved Me” I was very inspired. The noise in my brain melted with the lovely chords and lyrics of that song. It really saved me!

Links to stories where my newest song vocals can be heard:

Story behind MUSIC SAVED ME

Story behind WONDER WHY

My emotions are very raw and singing soothes me. I find deep meaning from every song that I am working on. My lyrics can be interpreted in many different ways and that’s what I especially love about them.

Another song I just finished a new vocal for was “Wonder Why.” I was able to relate to my song about suffering because my eyes hurt me so much while I was singing it.

The words of “I wish somehow I could fly – away from sadness, torture and madness” were exactly how I felt and fitting for this post title.

It’s also ironic for me that my newest song arrangement was for “You Are My Wings.” My song was an old love song I composed in 1980; it was a very challenging song for me to sing in my current state. I sang several takes and had zero feeling for my song – even though the arrangement was gorgeous. I wondered if there was a way I could “fly” with it!

My new arrangement can be heard below:

I want to write about something that comes up a lot for me. It is about my reluctance to finalize and sell my music.

There are probably many reasons for this. It starts with the premise that for decades during the time I was married, my self-worth was completely tied to how much money I made as an artist. When I began exploring music, my family “couldn’t wait” to see if I could sell my music and “make it big.” I fell into that mindset, but then decided to let it go because my music was far more healing when I didn’t worry whether it was “commercially acceptable.”

I love sharing and do share freely on my blog. But I would love to have a larger audience, so I am motivated to sell something in order to do that. I’m just not sure when I’m ready to let go of my songs – where I can’t improve upon them anymore.

It’s hard when I tell myself the story that I’m a huge perfectionist and nothing will ever be good enough to finalize. That thought isn’t helpful for me at all.

How can I possibly explain how much I have savored my amazing progress since I started to play my guitar again in 2010? I know perfection is unreachable. I’m very human and embrace that with my songs. But perhaps feeling “I want to be my best” for my songs is unreachable since I plan to keep improving.

The word is that I am close to selling something. My first album will be of 12 instrumentals and it’s a few days away from being available for downloads in over 30 on-line stores including iTunes. I’ve also had 20 songs mastered; I’ve designed several album covers and enjoy figuring out which songs will go with the many albums I have planned. However, I’m not rushing!

Everything I do is almost exclusively self-taught. After 30 years of not doing any kind of music, I had to learn so many things about my voice, guitar, arranging music, performing, as well as recording and computer music programs.

The screenshot above is for a song vocal. It shows two tracks of cross-fades in Garage Band. The yellow pieces come from about ten vocal takes of a song. Every piece represents a word; line or syllable and the blue line/dots are for volume control. I create a sculpted vocal line by fading in breaths and removing sibilance, clicks and harsh consonants. It requires as much skill as any illustration does.

For two years I have worked this way. My first attempts were not very good, but now I can do pretty much anything I want to with my voice. Of course, singing something in a nice way makes all the difference to start with!

What I do is not conventional by any means. But it works for me. It even helps me figure out how I want to sing my song when I perform. Lately, my voice and guitar playing have really connected with my heart. I’ve started to share videos of my performances again on You Tube after taking down all the old ones a few months ago.

Lugging my guitar to an open mic and singing in front of an audience (and cameras) isn’t easy when my eyes hurt. I have let go of worrying whether I am a good enough singer. It’s good enough for me!

I am noticing pink clouds in the sky because those words are in my song “You Are My Wings.” My daughter took this photo.

A few weeks ago when I was performing, a friend handed me a flier. It was for classes to help musicians promote their music. I went to the website that was listed. There were many interesting workshops but I was especially interested in the idea that I could book a consultation with a music promoter.

I left a message asking to set up an appointment and received a reply from Chris Fletcher. The message was: “Let’s meet so I can answer your questions and you can find out more about the services I offer.” We set up an afternoon appointment later that week at a nearby Starbucks.

I was very excited about my appointment with Chris. I prepared two CD’s of my songs to share.

On the day of our appointment, it was very hot. I wiped the sweat from my forehead as I entered Starbucks. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I didn’t know what Chris looked like. How would I recognize him?

I glanced around and made eye contact with a man sitting nearby. He smiled at me as he looked up from his laptop. I walked over to him and said, “Are you Chris Fletcher?”

He laughed and said, “This happens to me all the time! All over the world this happens!”

I was confused and said, “What are you talking about? Are you Chris?”

He said, “No. But people always come up to me!”

Now I was really sweating. I sat down and wasn’t sure what to do next as a few minutes went by.

All of this was very funny because a moment later a short middle-aged woman burst through the door and walked right over to me. She smiled warmly and said, “Hi! I’m Chris and you must be Judy. I recognized you from the Kulak’s video you sent me.”

It never occurred to me that Chris was a woman! I was chuckling inside for a long time after that.

She and I hit it off and I was very impressed with all the information she shared with me. In my dreams, I wanted her to “take me on” so I boldly asked her if she would consider helping me promote my music. But I quickly realized that agents for musicians were similar to agents I worked with in my art career. They only handled people who were already established.

Chris gently said, “I cannot take anyone else on at this time. I’m stretched too thin already.”

I felt sheepish for even suggesting it. I was a nobody! But of course, I hoped it wouldn’t always be that way.

I told Chris my story and she was very kind.

She said, “Judy, there’s so many things you can do to promote yourself. There are lots of places in this town where you can perform. You can even travel anywhere in this country and find places to play. If you want to do inspirational music – there are churches where you can perform in front of hundreds of people. But first you must have CDs to sell and share.”

She told me she would email me a list of places. I was most comfortable playing at Kulak’s, but now I could explore other venues. I was also interested in her recommendation for a CD duplicator who could do small runs of CDs for me.

I left our meeting and squinted in the sunlight. Chris was a lovely woman and I hoped she’d contact me after listening to my music. It was exciting to imagine being “out there.”

But then, the pain in my eyes overwhelmed me and I realized I was not up to anything that added pressure to my life.

Depression feels like a whirlpool that is hard to swim out of. I will not drown as long as I can breathe. It’s just very tiring.

When I have been at some very low points over the last few years, it was music that truly saved me. I see it as a magical essence that feeds my soul.

But nothing shuts down magic as quickly as pressure does. I am fragile, emotional and vulnerable with my eye condition. Stress causes pain in my eyes and pain in my eyes causes stress.

The idea of singing to large audiences and promoting myself feels scary. I once looked forward to speaking publicly and singing, but now it seems almost impossible. Although I loved some of the ideas that Chris shared with me, I want to “stay safe.”

“P” IN MY LIFE”

I am stuck on the letter “P.” It makes sense because pee is a big part of my life (I drink a lot of water to combat my dry eyes.) My sense of humor has returned!

But this actually relates to the word that started it all – pressure. Because pressure overwhelms me with negative feelings, I started to look for alternate words to combat pressure. And they were all words that began with “P” also.

I want to expand on all those “P” words because they are flying through my mind. I’ll start with the negative ones that go with pressure.

Pressure leads to paralysis and panic. Perfectionism is another word that causes me pain and is a problem for me.

The very first “P” word that came into my mind to combat pressure was the word passion.

My passion for music continues to save me. My emotions are powerful and my heart feels pure when I sing.

Sometimes, I see myself as a Princess. That is such a beautiful image. And so are pink clouds.

I am also a positive thinker.

I can easily hear the progress I’ve made with my music and there are so many possibilities for my life that I never imagined when my journey began. The whole process has been amazing because I never realized my potential. I am so proud!

Because I am very passionate, I spend a lot of energy creating music. It can be exhausting sometimes so I must remember to pace myself. The time that I have spent learning to use a computer has most certainly taught me a lot about patience.

What I treasure most about my current life is peacefulness. Pressure takes that away. It also takes away pleasure, too.

I promise I will share by performing and promoting my music with the world when I’m ready. I pray to God that I will feel better soon because that would make all of this a lot easier!

Tagged acoustic guitar, beautiful music, being saved, Chris Fletcher, composing, creativity, discouraged, discouraged about healing, eye discomfort, eye pain, finding happiness, god and music, guitar, having hope, healing and grief, healing from grief, healing music, holding on to hope, hope, hope for healing, hope of healing, hopeful and optimistic, inspiration, Intimate music, Judy Unger, Living with dry eyes, loss, lovesong, lovesongs, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, maintaining hope, Music, music and inspiration, music saved me, musical inspiration, noise, optimism, optimism after loss, original songs, performing, perfume bottles, pink clouds, positive outlook, singing, songs about love, songwriting, spiritual awakening, spiritual confusion, staying positive, swan crystal, thecoolschool, wanting to fly, when noise turned to music, wonder why, writing, You Are My Wings | 4 Comments

MY JOURNEY IN SIGHT – PART 11

Posted on March 21, 2015 by Judy

Those needles do prick and sting a little. I thought I’d give acupuncture a try but I’m not sure I’m going to “stick with it.”

I was so touched when my good friend, Marge, sent me an email wondering if I was okay because I hadn’t posted to my blog for almost a month. I was teary as I typed her a message back:

It’s so sweet of you to think of me. I’m very, very touched. Perhaps when I had deep stresses like my parents’ deaths and my divorce – it helped to express my sadness through writing.

But now I feel disconnected from my blog, which you as my dear friend picked up on. It’s because I’ve been quite depressed. I’m wrestling with the dark witch and trying to figure out what to do next. I feel like I can’t allow myself to be sad since I am free now and have so many blessings in my life.

It’s because of my eye problem.

I continue to do music, which definitely comforts me but most of the time I’m struggling with pain in my eyes. I am irritable and distracted by pain, so upset that I can’t seem to overcome this. I feel like my journey was about rediscovering joy and I feel like it’s hard to share my honest feelings.

Love you, my dear friend. I think of you often.

My good friend, Carol, shared this beautiful photo with me. Springtime is here and I can really feel the seasonal change in my heart. Sometimes it leads to sadness.

My good friend, Carol shared this beautiful photo with me. Springtime is here and I can feel the seasonal change. That also can lead to sadness.

On the last part of this series, I was very hopeful about improvement in my condition because of drinking a lot of water and using eye gel at night.

I decided to give serum tears a third try. I had a batch in my freezer and this time I would do something different. My friend, Judi was a leader of a dry eye support group and told me there was another method I could try where the serum tears wouldn’t be as irritating.

She said, “There’s a doctor who recommends using a steroid eye drop for a week before using the serum. The steroid calms down your eye and without inflammation, the serum can have a healing effect.”

I had my doctor look into this and she was willing to prescribe a steroid eye drop for me. Unfortunately, after one day my eyes began feeling foggy and painful. It felt like I was putting poison in my eyes – so I stopped.

I was disappointed, but not like I was the first time because I didn’t have high expectations. Unfortunately, it took weeks before my eyes felt better and that was very tough.

I try hard not to be affected by my struggles with eye pain. I want to keep looking for something that might help me. I decided to try an acupuncturist who was highly recommended by a good friend – at least that wouldn’t set me back like the steroid eye drops did.

Her name was Veronica and she came to my house. I enjoyed talking with her as she worked on me. I asked her to take pictures and she did.

After our first session, I went for a walk and marveled – it felt like my vision was clearer and I could open my eyes wider than usual. I was thrilled and planned to write about it. But then I caught a cold from my son and my eyes worsened. But I still was very hopeful that my eyes were improving.

Veronica came for our second and third session with determination to help me. At our first appointment, she recommended that I try at least four sessions to give her a chance to make a difference. Each time she tried out different things and asked other instructors at the acupuncture institute where she worked for advice.

After our fourth session, my eyes were still very irritated. I was beginning to lose hope and didn’t know what to do next.

I am so photogenic. I smile for pictures even with needles in me!

Last week, a good friend sent me a text message encouraging me to see an eye specialist. I have had many people recommending ophthalmologists to me. I don’t think they realize how daunting it is to see a specialist without insurance. I have an HMO and can only use their doctors; they have continually denied my requests for opinions outside of their network.

My friend was persistent. She wrote me a second time:

If you read this doctor’s list of achievements, he appears to be an excellent scientist and diagnostician.

I thanked her. I reminded her that a year ago, I spent a lot of money to go to a well-known eye specialist who spent 10 minutes with me. He told me two things:

1. There was nothing that I should ever do to my eyes again (surgically).

2. When I mentioned my dry eye pain he said, “Oh, I don’t treat dry eyes – you need to see another specialist for that.”

This feels daunting, at times – hopeless and expensive. I understand your wariness. Those of us who have tested the medical world know that true Health Care does not come easily. Keep the faith! The alternative is unthinkable!

I’d gladly spend money for relief but it’s all unknown. But I value your recommendation and promise to look into it. I’ve dealt with the unthinkable more times than I ever wanted to, sadly.

If you see this doctor, be candid about your plight. Besides compassion, you might raise his scientific curiosity. You must carry the same tenacious torch for YOU, as you’ve carried for your kids!! Sorry for being so forceful. This all hits a passionate chord with me.

I love your chord. I’m blessed to have a friend like you. I’m crying.

I wrote down the doctor’s number and it was next to my computer. My eyes were just awful and I began to think that perhaps I might consider this. But first, I had to overcome defensive and negative thoughts. Did my friend think I wasn’t taking care of myself? Was I not tenacious with this problem that had tortured me for three years now?

I understood why I felt angry. Why would I trust any doctor? The very doctors that I trusted had literally dumped me with my eye problems. And I could go back further to the surgeon that operated on my son, who subsequently died. At the moment, I had a cornea doctor who was willing to prescribe the remedies I researched and requested, but so far nothing had helped me.

That was a lot better than the first specialist who told me, “Your eye condition is considered a disease. There’s nothing else I can do.”

Then I thought about the fact that my friend was so caring. How could I be angry with her for that? I went ahead and called the clinic and never even looked up this doctor on the Internet. But I made sure to ask if he treated dry eyes. The woman on the phone put me on hold and came back to say, “Yes.”

I scheduled an appointment; it was two weeks away and I had ten pages of forms to fill out.

I shared my plan with my friends. I was surprised when I received a message from my good friend, Dr. Sam telling me he knew this doctor. He wrote:

He is brilliant. I’ve worked closely with him at Los Angeles County Medical Association…he is a former President like me…I can recommend him highly!…Sam

I want to add some perspective to my feelings about hope so I’m sharing correspondence from the wonderful dry eye support group that I belong to on Facebook. These exchanges happened several months ago. My words are in black bold.

A woman named Mary posted:

My eye pain was horrible today at work. I could hardly open my eyes. I can’t cope anymore – I want to rip my eyes out.

Mary, I wish I could hold a crystal ball for you and tell you this is temporary. I know you are in Hell. Please hang in there because one day you will be so glad you did. You will heal. It takes patience and a lot of self-love. Dig deep because you are worthy and have a lot to offer this world. Don’t let this disease win.

Thank you, Judy. Now for the past three days, I’m feeling better. I am unable to figure out why. I don’t see any pattern, any change in my routine . . . This is really frustrating!

Mary, I suggest trying to focus more on gratitude and appreciation rather than frustration.

Mary, that’s wonderful news! So much of how I’m feeling surrounds the way I talk to myself. Enjoying it is great. My motto is – the more you look for something, the more chance you’re going to find it. That’s how I feel about my eyes. I keep looking when they hurt and know better days are always possible. That’s why I told you not to think about hurting yourself – TEMPORARY is something I tell myself a lot when I’m discouraged!

Oh, and I also see you as very grateful. When I’m told to “feel grateful” that hurts. I know you are!

Thank you, Judy, because I was hurt to be honest.

I get so sick of dealing with this day after day after day!! I just want to be a normal person with everyday problems.

Unfortunately, eye pain is impossible to overlook. I can push many types of pain aside, but when it’s in the sensitive part of my eyes – there’s no escape. I can say that my eyes have improved to a point where I can think about other things now. I cry tears of gratefulness for that but it’s far from what used to be normal for me. I pray it gets easier for you.

Went to the emergency room. I don’t have an infection. The doc told me he couldn’t do anything for my eye pain. I just want to end my life.

Mary, please don’t let this disease cause you to hurt yourself. Your life is very valuable. Pain can make us crazy, for sure. I’m a bereaved mom and I know if you ended your life – there would be a lot of pain for those who love you. It will get better. I promise.

Judy, your message is so kind – I’m crying right now. Thank you. It is a relief to talk with people who understand what I am going through, thank you so much!

Tears are good, Mary. You are not alone with your pain. You will find relief and until then – please do not despair. It is in this valley of sorrow where you will discover things that you will carry for the rest of your life. It is an opportunity to let go of what we expect from life. I think this is a turning point for you. It’s okay to express your anguish. You are going to beat this. I know you will.

Tagged acupuncture, acupuncture for eye pain, acupuncturist, Autologous serum eye drops, autologous serum tears, benefits of drinking water, cataract surgery, cataract surgery complications, coping with PVD, dealing with pvd, discouraged, discouraged about healing, dry eye, dry eye disease, dry eye regimen, dry eye support, dry eye syndrome, dry eyes, dry eyes and acupuncture, eye discomfort, eye issues, eye pain, eye problems, eyesight adjustment, eyesight issues, finding a cure, foggy vision, Friendship, having hope, healing and grief, healing from grief, holding on to hope, hope, hope for healing, hope of healing, hopeful and optimistic, inspiration, Judy Unger, Living with dry eyes, living with PVD, maintaining hope, optimism, optimism after loss, Posterior Vitreous Detachment, PVD, remedy for dry eyes, serum eye drops, serum tears, severe myopia and cataract surgery, staying hopeful, staying positive | 4 Comments

IN EVERY SMILE – PART 1

Posted on February 20, 2015 by Judy

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Click the blue links below to hear my song:

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In Every Smile Acoustic 6-4-18

Link to more about this song: IN EVERY SMILE

From the time I was young, I have always loved to smile.

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IN EVERY SMILE

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One day I’ll be gone, but love cannot leave

I’ll be right there beside you, can you believe?

if you’re crying ‘cause you miss me

and feel you’ve lost your way

You know what I’d say . . .

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See me in every smile; it’s okay to cry awhile

But smiling can lift you up

Feel me with love you share; in your heart I’m there

I’m not really gone when my love lives on

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Remember the warmth, your heart next to mine

I’ll still be hugging you in warm sunshine

When storm clouds overtake you

and everything seems gray

You know what I’d say . . .

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See me in every smile; it’s okay to cry awhile

But laughter can lift you up

Feel me with every touch; I loved you so much

I’m not really gone when my love lives on

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You might be scared and think you’re alone

Let my light surround you, the love you’ve known

From the moment I first held you until I had to go,

I hope you know

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See me in every smile; it’s okay to cry awhile

But my love can lift you up

Feel me with love you share; in your heart I’m there

I’m not really gone when my love lives on

When my love lives on

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Music captivates me. Except for times of great emotional upheaval – I usually don’t feel like writing lyrics. But when music and melodies grab my heart, I become inspired to find the words that will express my feelings and bring a song to life.

Finding those words can be very challenging. Yet when it comes together for me, the experience is glorious and unlike anything else in my life. I’m actually dancing with joy at those times.

These are lyrics in progress – not ones that I actually used.

Carol and I together when we were 19.

Just last week, I met with my good friend, Carol. We walked around a beautiful park near her house. I brought my guitar along and was excited to share my newest song with her. I also knew it was a great opportunity for me to ask her some lyric questions.

Every single word makes a difference when I sing one of my songs. I have a lot of choices and usually my lyrics evolve slowly over time.

When I took lessons with Peaches Chrenko several years ago, she had wonderful lyric advice for me. She always told me, “It’s very cool when you’re able to get rid of those unnecessary words – like ands and buts.” I’ve never forgotten that.

Carol was especially brilliant. A few years ago she helped me with my song “Alabaster Seashell” and I continue to thank her for her input. I originally wrote a lyric line of: “That seashell once was a living thing.”

Carol suggested instead that I say: “That seashell once held a living thing.”

Her suggestion definitely made a lot more sense since the creature inside was more of a living thing than the hard shell exterior.

Carol and I enjoyed our lovely picnic lunch and afterwards I sang my new song for her. I was hoping she’d help me find a name for it.

I was certain I wanted to use the word “smile” in the song title. I had two choices but neither one grabbed me. They were “See Me in Every Smile” or “Every Smile.”

In a heartbeat Carol said, “IN Every Smile.”

That was it! I was exploding with excitement. How could a single word like “in” make such a difference? But it did!

I let her know I’d think of her every time I sang “In Every Smile.”

I had many choices for my first verse and ended up going with the version above. But the last line wasn’t set. I couldn’t decide between “If you believe” or “When you believe.”

“If you believe” sounded very judgmental, like I’d only be there if there was faith. And so was “when you believe.”

But with the question of “can you believe?” the words suddenly became magical because I wasn’t imposing. Now the line was more of a suggestion, which I found far more touching to sing.

With these words, I imagine myself holding one of my babies against my chest.

WRITTEN TWO WEEKS AGO:

I didn’t feel well and barely ventured out of my house for over a week. My eyes were the worst part. I could barely open them and everything looked foggy and gray. My “mild flu” was definitely no picnic.

But it wasn’t really that terrible because my heart was exploding with the birth of a new song. The music was absolutely gorgeous and I allowed it to softly wrap around me.

I hummed the evolving melody and strummed the chords whenever I could. I wished I knew what to name my beautiful new song. I did write some lyrics for it but my first ones did not really express what I wanted to say. My song was incomplete.

I knew eventually I’d find the special words that would make my song soar. From experience, I’ve discovered that touching lyrics cannot be forced; they often happen when I least expect it. Nothing inspired me; I was sick and couldn’t even type with a pounding headache. I decided to just give in and lay down on my bed.

It was the same bed my parents once slept on and was of a very good quality; it comforted me and I felt their love close to my heart. When I first moved in, I was sure I’d replace it. I slept at the edge and didn’t need such a large bed in my small bedroom.

Then it occurred to me that I actually loved this bed. It was a perfect place for each one of my large children to hang out with me when I was sitting at my computer nearby. They would come into my bedroom, lie on it and spread out. And if I were on my bed, sometimes they would lay down next to me just like when they were little.

This past year, I was blessed with wonderful income as an illustrator. I decided to splurge on my children and a month ago I purchased new queen-sized beds for all three of them. Each child said to me, “Mom, we hope it’s just like yours.” I ended up getting my sons firmer beds – they were large men and it made more sense. I was relieved when they told me, “It’s pretty firm, but we’ll get used to it. Thanks, Mom!”

I hoped my cold would let up so I could sing again soon. I smiled picturing my kids in their new beds; I felt better just thinking about them. Then I closed my eyes and could hear my new song’s melody playing in my mind. The music was so sweet that I found myself crying.

After a few moments, I sniffled and realized I felt better. My tears had softened my sadness. And then the words came into my mind!

“It’s okay to cry awhile . . .”

I was so excited! The first line of my chorus was: “See me in every smile.” I liked that line a lot but hadn’t been able to rhyme anything with smile in a comfortable way. I couldn’t commit to that first line unless I had a second line that worked.

“It’s okay to cry awhile” conveyed exactly what I wanted. At that moment, I was elated because my song was almost finished!

I believe that crying is not only okay – it’s very healthy. I learned the hard way because for years I suppressed all of my feelings – I was emotionally deadened and considered my life to be “Zombieland.”

The most amazing part about my song was that I wrote it for my children – but when I sang it, I could feel my parents and even Jason hugging me with every word!

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My parents were completely devoted to my children and me. I treasure every picture with them and sometimes find it hard to believe they are gone.

These are my first lyrics where I hadn’t found “It’s okay to cry awhile” yet. I did not like rhyming “smile” with “trial”.

Creating a will and outlining medical directives was a way for me to make things easier for my children if anything drastic happened to me. Even though my kids are adults now, I am still very involved in their lives.

I live with my two sons (ages 18 and 24) and my 21-year-old daughter moved out a year ago. For a brief time in 2013, I had all three of them living with me in my two bedroom apartment. I had just separated from a long marriage at that time and both my sons slept in the living room. Our former home was huge and had four bathrooms. It was quite an adjustment for them to deal with having a single bathroom.

But I love my cottage/castle!

My daughter lives with roommates in an apartment nearby and we see each other frequently. Two weeks ago, she called me in the middle of the night.

When I’m jerked awake, memories come flooding back. It would be an understatement to mention that I was frequently woken up at night all through the years when my children were growing up.

My heart pounded with fear when I heard her quivering voice; she was chattering from a high fever. The first thing I did, was ask her if she had a pain reliever in her apartment. She wasn’t sure but promised she’d find one. Then I gave her instructions to take a bath.

The next morning, she came over to my house. I made her tea and she shivered under the covers in my bed. I had an illustration assignment to work on and it was one of those times where I was glad I worked in my bedroom.

In the evening, her fever came back. I drove her to the doctor to check for strep throat and thankfully, it was negative. We came home and my daughter told me she was able to drive home.

The next morning, I sent her a text to see how she was feeling. She replied: “Mom, I’m doing much better. I started feeling a fever coming on – but I took a bath and some Tylenol. So now I’m fine!”

That gave me a big smile. Even though she’s 21, she understood now about the benefits of taking a pain reliever and a bath whenever she had fever.

I love these big smiles of my daughter and I in this picture that was taken 6 months ago. My daughter took a selfie of us!

I wished I could have smiled a little longer. The very next day, my 18-year-old son also became ill. He woke me up from a sound sleep to tell me, “Mom, my temperature is almost 105!”

He went into the bathtub quickly and took a pain reliever while I spoke to a nurse on an advice line. So once again, I was back at the same hospital with my son. He looked so miserable and the doctor told me he was almost certain that both my son and daughter had influenza.

The doctor prescribed Tamiflu for my son but wanted to wait for the results of a swab test he did before prescribing it for me as a preventative.

On the way home, my son threw up in my car. He had just taken his first capsule of Tamiflu. I held my breath as I drove. He peeled off his clothes and threw them in the backyard when we came home.

Now my supermom veneer was starting to crack. My heart was pounding – it was a little hard to swallow. Could I be getting influenza?

That evening the doctor called. My son had tested positive for the flu; He recommended I start taking my son’s Tamiflu until I picked up my own prescription.

I began taking the medicine – my stomach was queasy and my body was in the throes of resisting the virus. I cancelled all of my plans and did very little for an entire week. I ended up with a terrible cold, but the classic flu symptoms such as an extremely high fever never materialized. I had dodged a bullet.

My son was still very sick the rest of that week. I told him, “Now that I’m sick, I can’t really take care of you the way I did before that.”

He replied, “Mom, I’m so sorry I gave this to you! But don’t worry – I can take Tylenol and a bath whenever I feel feverish. So you don’t need to do anything. Can I make you some tea?”

So this past week two of my children learned the same lesson, even though they aren’t young children.

Whenever I can make a difference in their lives – it is like “living on.”

And that comes from a place of deep love.

Those lessons will always be there to remind them of my love, even when I’m not.

This picture definitely conveys warm sunshine for me.

These pictures were taken at the Kulak’s Woodshed Open Mic about two months ago. Lately, I have not been up to performing, but hope I’ll be able to soon.