ZUMBA for Sight!

CONNECT TO SIGHT

and Dance with Me.

First blog:

Hey Herndon and all of Fairfax County!!

I’m very excited to share my story with you and hopefully I’ll get you to “Dance with me!”

What is this all about you ask?  Well, grab your coffee or favorite beverage, get cozy, and I will tell you all about it.

On a very ordinary day in 2003, I was driving to work, stuck in the usual Highway 495 traffic on my way to Reston, VA from my cute apartment in Alexandria, VA. Ok, no worries, I will just crank up Dave Mathews and rock out in my XTERRA, not caring what others think as I grace them with my horrific singing and car dancing. As I inched closer to work I went over lesson plans for the day and wondered what the day held for me as an Emotional Disabilities Teacher.  I taught 3rd grade and absolutely loved my students.  Why this day is so clear to me I do not know, unless, maybe it was just the lovely thoughts that wrapped around me.  I had finally done it!  I had the best job; the best roommate; I was working towards my Masters in Special Education;  and I had co-workers that were now close friends.  Life to me was so sweet. I took it in with breaths of gratitude.

It wasn't until several weeks later that I started to get these terrible headaches.  I did not think much about this at first, as I had a demanding job, I was tutoring, and was working on my Masters. But I finally went to the doctor.

He told me it was cluster migraines and sent me on my way with steroids to calm the pain.

But the pain never stopped. It roared with the intensity of a lion and consumed my every thought and movement. It took several emergency room visits and lots of tests before the intruder revealed itself. I remember leaving the MRI thinking “this is going to be bad. I just know it, but...they let me go, so maybe not.” The pain did calm down so this had to be a good sign.

It was not until I put the keys in my lovely apartment did the call come that would change my life forever…

I was told to come back to the hospital as quickly as possible. I waited in the ER for what seemed like years as I wondered what they would say, thoughts chasing me with such force I could not get a grip on what was going on. I just wanted the nurses to stop talking, people to quit laughing; didn’t they know I was a wreck? The doctor came in and shut the door. I sat on my hands and waited with all of my senses concentrated so as to not miss a thing that was about to be spoken. The words seemed to fall out of his mouth with such violence I almost could not understand… something about a blood clot and pressure on my eye. As I pulled myself out of the cloud of confusion, I looked around in the room and saw faces of shock and tears.  I knew that look on my father’s face. It was the same one I saw when I would hurt myself as a little girl--hopeless and full of pain. I repeated back what I heard the doctor say, and he nodded a simple yes. That day driving to work on 495 flashed through my mind. I knew from this point my perfect world, my overwhelming gratitude of that day was no more.

In the hospital, the nurses hooked me up to medicines to shrink the blood clot in my brain and I thought maybe this would not be so bad. I mean, they are shrinking it, right?

But how on earth did it get there? What does this mean?

As weeks went by and my stay in the hospital came to a close I thought “no worries... this is going to be alright. It will shrink and I will be good.”

I went home. A few days later on Mother’s Day, I was so sick I had to call 911. Those next 3 weeks were the most painful I had ever experienced. My vision was leaving me and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The pressure from the clot was too much for my body to take and each minute I could see the beauty of the world slip away from my grasp. Finally, one morning I awoke and my sight was gone. It was June 6th 2003. 

The next year I spent sick and depressed. I took a long time to heal. Eventually the clot left and other surgeries took away the physical pain, but not the emotional and helpless feelings of my vanished sight. I was just sure this was a nightmare and that my vision would return. I was certain of this. When the crushing truth hit me, at the age of 26, I felt everything I knew and loved was not mine any longer.

After several months of being at rock bottom I decided I had two choices--either give up or I fight. I chose to fight. I used my anger as fuel, and my loved ones for support. I found myself going to Rehab in Richmond and learning to live as a person without sight. Those 3 months were unbelievably difficult, but I'm convinced with all of my heart that life never gives you more than you can handle. In the dark times of our lives we tend to forget this and need encouragement from our loved ones to keep us going. I was thankful that my best friend since middle school lived near the facility and would pick me up in the evenings and weekends to let me either cry or laugh…to know that life was not over…just different.

Now, that I have your attention I want to invite you to join me for my next adventure!! I feel extremely passionate about helping others in the fight for sight. For me that means working to advance Optic Nerve research. That is why I will be hosting a “Dance for Sight” event at the Herndon Community Center on September 14th starting at 3:30 pm. This event is to raise money and build awareness for the Lewis J. Fox center at the University of Pittsburg.  100% of the donations will go straight to Optic Nerve research. To learn more about the Center and the work they have done, please visit their site at: www.HYPERLINK "http://www.eyeandear.org/"eyeandear.org

You will see below more details on the event and the organization in the poster above.

I will keep writing more about me each day to fill-in-the-blanks on my life over the past 10 years.  I can tell you it has been a roller coaster and that my life is not easy, but I have been blessed with a husband of 7 years, a wonderful son, and career change. Life is what you make of it and I hope my story encourages you in your dark times to remember that light is always close by to guide your path.

I really look forward to hearing from you and sharing our stories together!

With all my heart,

Melody