I Get to Keep My Eye.

I love not losing body parts.
Well...that's not entirely true.
In 2007 I dropped my gallbladder - and I have to say - I think everyone would be better for it to drop an organ.
At least - a non-vital organ.
I lost weight, my colour got better and I stopped having insane diarrhea attacks.
Of course - the fee I paid: One destroyed gall bladder - plucked from my body and donated to science.
A fair trade.
But...you're wondering how this relates back to my eye?
I should probably explain myself here.
In late March, I noticed this small, teeny little...wart-looking thing on my upper eyelid.
Nothing gross. Like a small skin tag.
Firm. Hard to the touch.
Perfectly smooth and round.
A tiny little bump.
I shrugged it off and forgot I had it...until about a week ago.
"Hmmm," I said, looking into the mirror, one week ago, fingering the little uninvited inhabitant of my eyelid.
"Little twirp is still there."
I showed it a co-worker - my good buddy Gnyp.
"Check it out," I said, closing my eyes and pointing to it. "You think it's a wart?"
He studied it for a second and shook his head.
"Too smooth to be a wart."
Hmm.
"It looks more like a cyst of some kind."
The "C" word.
Cyst. On my eyelid.
The wheels began turning.
"Pour some oil on it and use your lighter."
I take every bit of advice he gives me about my on-air performance to heart - treat it like it's gold...but - this little home remedy, I gracefully declined.
*sigh*
Instead I did the unthinkable:
I googled "cyst on eyelid."
Immediately - a collage of horrific words whizzed by the screen.
Malignant! Tumor! Fatty tissue! Inflammation! Blindness! Biopsy!
And of course...
Cancer.
"Fucking typical," I cursed at my desk.
It's my right eye...and I don't have a lot of luck with that eye.
See - I'm kinda-sorta blind in it.
"But Dan...you don't have a lazy eye."
No. I don't.
I can see light and movement. No colour. No depth perception. No shapes.
Just blobs.
It's okay...no reason to take out your glittery hankies and bawl your eyes out for the depraved life I must live without use of one of my eyeballs.
But no need. I'm used to it.
In fact, my brain has worked around it and I actually have a short-cut to depth perception...my one working eye just views depth in a different way than other people.
Kinda cool.
And...since my shitty eye is capable of seeing things move...it has no problem following them.
So: No lazy eye! Yay me!
You can move your finger by my bad eye...and my bad eye will follow it. It just has no idea what it's looking at.
Weird, eh?
I was born with my bum-eye. A cluster of scar tissue formed on my retina for no good reason - surgery can't fix it. Glasses can't help it.
It's just one of those "things".
Anyway - that cluster of scar tissues is also considered a "mass" of irregular cells.
Irregular cells...aren't necessarily good things, especially since there is no real reason why they are there.
And of course - one of the symptoms of an irregular cell turning into...well - the OTHER "C" word (and I don't mean "cyst") is a small bump on the eyelid of said eye.
*gulp*
The website said to not be alarmed - 9 times out of 10 it is a skin tag...but it is a good idea to make an appointment with an eye doctor to have the eye examined.
So I did. And I had to wait one week.
One week..and I pondered what life would be like, if I lost the eye.
I know - I'm all about the drama.
But I couldn't help wondering..."what if..."
It's human nature.
I wouldn't necessariliy "miss" the eye. I mean, if it were my good eye - I'd be screwed.
But...even if they did have to pluck my crappy eye out of my skull..I'd be okay. I could function normally.
But...a glass eye?
Interesting. It's something I've always thought about.
A glass eye can't see movement.
A glass eye is lifeless. It will sit in my head and stare blankly into space.
Not the end of the world - just something to consider...perhaps a bit more seriously.
I had many things to consider.
I could wear a patch, for example.
Would it be weird if I wore a patch?
And if I became known as "Patch guy"?
Would people look at me strangely, wondering if I have some crazed pirate fetish?
Wondering if I am "all there"?
Perhaps I could ask Phat Matt if he'd let me change my on-air name - "Patch MacDonald, on 939 the River"...or maybe the "Wild Eyed Hour of Rock N Roll"...singular.
I settled on designer sunglasses.
I'd join the ranks of Roy Orbison, Bob Dylan and Max Headroom..."the guy who just always wears sunglasses - day and night".
It'd be my thing.
People might whisper behind my back, sure.
"What's up with Dan? Why is he wearing sunglasses non-stop...?"
"Legend has it he lost an eye..."
"What? Lost an eye..."
"Some kind of a bar fight..."
"My god...I had no idea..."
"I know...that Dan..he has a dark side...he's mysterious..."
I'd be very "Prince".
Dark sunglasses. Soft spoken. Mysterious.
I was in LOVE with the idea.
Then...reality hit.
I'm pondering the loss of my eye.
Blind or not - and as cool as David Bowie may be - with his dead, pale eye that sits motionless in his head...I didn't want to lose my eye.
Worse yet - what if it was the "C" word?
What if it was too late?
It's a scary thing to consider, but with my mass of irregular cells...and this newly formed cyst..not 100% out of the question either.
How would I deal with that?
I didn't ponder this all too seriously. I didn't want to worry myself.
I am a positive thinker. The glass is ALWAYS half full and while I have questions that will forever be unanswered about the existence of any kind of "higher power"...I sometimes think that everything happens for a reason, even if only allowing us to see things (no pun intended) that we were incapable of seeing before.
I thought briefly - but long and hard - about the "C" word.
Because you just never know.
And I decided to brush it from my head.
I've lived a charmed life. A lucky life. A happy, rich life.
I have never taken a second of it for granted.
Oh, I live in la-la land - and I will admit - I often live in a state of ignorance to problems greater than my own - and horrible to say or not - ignorance is sometimes bliss.
I try. And it's the best I can ever do.
Michael J. Fox was asked of his Parkinson's disease - and the negative impact it had on his life.
And he replied - "If this is the ONE cross I have to bear...I can do this. I've lived a great life."
Beautiful.
What a beautiful attitude.
I have no idea how I would react if I was diagnosed with some kind of horrific disease, but I know not to dwell on that for too long.
I have one life. And it's a good one.
Any negative stuff is merely a challenge. A challenge I can take on 2 ways:
1) In stride or 2) A crying, destroyed, defeated mess.
Which sounds like the better option to you?
I walked into the doctor's office relaxed.
I flipped through a copy of House & Home magazine and waited for my Optometrist.
She took one look at my cyst...and said:
"It's not cancer."
Ok. Gotcha.
"It's a tiny fatty bit of tissue. If it doesn't bother you - I wouldn't worry about getting it removed. But I can refer you to a plastic surgeon if you want to look into getting it removed."
"Not necessary," I said.
I'll embrace this little twirp on my eyelid.
Even though I am a drama queen who googles things and believes he has every affliction he reads about like a good hypcondriac...this little cyst forced me to do a wee little bit of soul searching.
I'm happy it's nothing serious.
That being said: I'm even happier knowing that I would have been okay no matter what, had it been a different scenario.
If I've done ONE thing right in this life...it's pick the people I've surrounded myself with.
Or maybe they picked me.
Because people like me need people like them. Who knows?
What I do know is this:
Everything in my life - from the good to the bad to the downright confusing has always made sense in its own way.
Everything has always happened for a reason and anything can be looked at as "for the greater good".
The bigger picture - is beautiful. Beyond comprehension. And my life...it's been pretty f-ing sweet.
I cannot deny that. I'm lucky.
It's been a non-stop party with ups and downs, but in the end - it all equals out to experience.
And there's not a doubt in my mind - whatever life tosses at me - whatever curve ball that "chance or fate or pure coincidence" throws in my face - whether I have depth perception or not....I'll be able to catch it...and hang on to it...and deal with it.

I can own it. I can make it mine. So, no.
No plastic surgeon necessary.

There's happiness in everything, I guess.
Even deep inside an eye that is blind to everything.
Except of course - for movement and light.