The Importance of Vision.
On the day after Valentine's day, it being a Saturday, most people were able to stay in bed a little longer, their working week now over. That was not the case in the Harper-Gilbert household. Beats had a weekend shift, thanks to an ongoing project that needed his expertise, and Elliott was taking an extra early shift at the Spotlight, so that they could both be off work the following weekend. The latter was the first to wake up that morning, and he immediately wished that he did not have to be up and about; it was cold, even in their warm house, and it was so dark…
He lay there for a moment, but being of a practical nature, he knew that he had no choice but to get up, and he tried to do so without disturbing his sleeping husband too much, as he would be able to have another hour of sleep and still be able to get to his work on time. He did not realise that as he left the room, the slight squeak from the hinges as he closed the door behind him was all it took to wake the man that he loved. Beats stretched, and like Elliott, cursed how dark it was. He turned to see what the time was on the alarm clock, and cursed the fact that there had been some sort of power cut during the night, as the glowing red numbers were not visible. He reached over to the nightstand, and grabbed his watch instead, and pressed the button for the backlight…
Beats lay there for a moment, and let the pace of his breathing, which had increased just then slow down. He blinked, then picked up his watch and pressed again, and his worry level grew exponentially once more. There was no light from his watch; he could hear it ticking, so the battery had not died. It was unlikely that it would have failed along with the power as well in any case. He lay there, trying to calm himself, being as quiet as he could be, but that only allowed him to hear the faint sound of the radio in the kitchen, and the electric kettle boiling. He gingerly lifted his hand up in front of his face, and saw nothing at all. Before he could stop himself, he let out an anguished squeal of horror…
That squeal was loud enough for Elliott t hear in the kitchen above the kettle and the radio. He paused for a moment, and then carefully he popped the bread back out of the toaster, before heading back upstairs to see if he could identify where the sound had come from. He stopped on the landing, and heard a faint sobbing, and he realised it was coming from his own bedroom. He stepped in, the noise louder as he did so, and without a thought he switched on the light…
That click was followed by another, louder sob, and he hurried over to his husband. "Nate, what…?" he began.
"Ell, did you just put the light on? Is the power working?"
"Yes, I did. Why…" Elliott stopped then, all the pieces falling into place in his mind.
"Then why is it still pitch black?" asked Beats in a whisper. "I can't see a thing, it's all black…"
Elliott found tears welling up in his eyes, and he wanted to sob too, to cry and wail, but he knew that he had to stay strong. He took his husband's hands gently, then said calmly, "Okay, so you need to let me take a look at your eyes… Maybe there is something in them that is causing the issue. We can't assume that it's the worst case scenario yet…" Beats did not reply, but Elliott knew that he was biting his tongue from saying what even he knew to be true; he was talking bull… Elliott stared into his husband's eyes, but could see nothing wrong. They looked as normal as ever, but there was no image getting from them to his husband's brain. "Okay, so I am going to go and fetch a washcloth, and we will give your eyes a wipe…"
"It's pointless, Ell!" exclaimed Beats, no longer able to hold back. "I'm blind! We both knew that it was going to happen, we just didn't expect it so suddenly and so soon…"
"I refuse to accept that," Elliott replied firmly. "You should not accept that either. We both know, from what we have been told by experts, that if this is your glaucoma, then your sight would have deteriorated over time. It would not just cease! So, I am going for the warm cloth, and then, if there is still no change, we will head to the hospital.."
Beats could only nod, and once he did, he heard his husband move, letting go of his hand, before walking with a degree of urgency in the direction of the bathroom. Alone once more, Beats couldn't help but allow his mind to wander once more. He suddenly wished that his mother was there, something that he had not felt for a decade or more. He was scared; ever since his diagnosis he had known that, in all likelihood, this would happen one day. He had always been told it would be gradual though, that his sight would dim and his world would grow smaller, but that it would take many years for it to go altogether. Now he was barely in his thirties, and his world had gone black. He wouldn't be able to return to his work, that much he knew for certain, but that faded into unimportance when compared to the prospect of not seeing the faces of his friends and family again. He would not see how people grew up, his images of children frozen in time. It just seemed so cruel that the world would do this to him now…
In the bathroom, Elliott was taking a moment. He felt like breaking down and sobbing his heart out, but he knew that he couldn't cry right now, even though there were tears welling up in his eyes. He had to stay strong, as he was not the one that was potentially losing so much. He could still see. He glanced then at his reflection in the mirror, and frowned at the watery eyes he had, swiping at them. Right now, there was little more than he could do put whisper words of comfort and pray for a miracle. And if that did not come, then they would just have to cope. Yes, it would be a massive challenge, and the risks were great, but he was sure that together, he and Beats could survive anything. For now, he had to put his heartache on the back burner. His husband, his Nate, came first, and then the kids… And suddenly, he realised he had no idea how he would explain the situation to them…
When he returned to the bedroom, it was to find his husband sitting up on the edge of the bed, his face downcast as if he trying to hide it from the world. Elliott was suddenly aware that there was another, silent presence in the room, and looking around, he caught a glimpse of a short figure with black, curled wings. Blaine did not speak, just watched as Elliott went to sit beside his husband…
"Which one of them is here?" Beats said softly. "I felt the draught, but they haven't spoken…"
"It's Blaine, and I guess that like me, he doesn't really know exactly what to say in these circumstances. Okay, so I am going to wash your eyes out now. The cloth is just wet with lukewarm water, but I am going to be just a little rougher than I might normally be as I wash them, okay?"
"Yes, I trust you," replied Beats, closing his eyelids, before he felt the moist cloth on his skin, gently wetting the area around his eyes, and then going in a little more intensely on the area in question. It felt good, it felt refreshing, but he doubted that it would be to much avail. Then he felt the cloth being taken away…
"Blink for me," said Elliott calmly, not even a hint of anything in his tone as he hoped that something might have changed…
Beats felt sick at that idea, knowing that in a moment he would have to get up from the bed, would have to try and dress himself, would have to allow Elliott to guide him as they went down the stairs so that they could get to the hospital. Worse, they would have to wake up Dante, and tell him where they were going and why; he was sure that there would be tears then… He blinked with reluctance, and he gasped. It was no longer as black, he could see shapes. He did it again, and again, and with each blink the light came back stronger, shapes taking on a coherent form, the hopeful face of his husband there once more, albeit a little fuzzy. He let out a huge sigh of relief, thanking whatever God had allowed his blindness to be a temporary aberration, and had now granted him a reprieve…
Elliott of course had no idea why his husband had gasped, then sighed, and was now crying once more. He feared the worst at first, and it was only when his husband stretched out his hand with confidence to touch his face that he allowed himself to have a moment of hope.
"You are so beautiful," Beats whispered. "When I thought that I was never going to see you again, that was the worst thing in the world…"
Elliott let out a sob of his own then, and allowed his tears to finally flow unchecked. Beats joined him, the two of them clinging to each other. They stayed like that for a few minutes, then Elliott pulled back. "I still want to take you to the hospital; your sight might be back, but it could go again at any moment. We need to find out why it happened. Also, how well can you see? Be honest with me, because I will know if you are lying to me. You have a tell…"
"I will admit that things are a little fuzzy, but it's just like it was that night, after your dad.." Elliott nodded as his husband paused. But his confession made him worry more, not less. Then he had suffered a severe blow to the head; that had not happened this time round… "I know what you are thinking, and yes, it is concerning, but we also have to be practical. You need to get to work, and so do I. We can go to the hospital this afternoon…"
"Nate, work doesn't matter when your health is at risk."
"Look, it is okay right now, and I think we can let it wait for a few hours. In any case, there won't be any eye specialists in at this time of day, so going now just means having to sit waiting in the hospital. I will phone them up and get an emergency appointment, and I promise that if it gets worse in the meantime, I will go straight there, okay…"
Elliott was not at all happy with the situation, but at the same time he did not wish to start an argument. Instead he crossed his arms, sighed and said, "That is the very least that I would expect you to do! So, you will meet me at the Spotlight when you finish work, and then we will go straight from there to the hospital. I know that you might be able to see perfectly by then, but what happens if you wake up tomorrow morning and the same thing has happened again? What if the next time your sight suddenly fails is when you are walking home from the office, or standing on a subway platform? We need to know exactly what is going on, and if that means we spend half our day at a hospital, then so be it!"
"I don't want to take up people's valuable time unnecessarily," replied Beats.
"And I do not want to see the man I love falling apart because he thinks that he has gone blind ever again!" responded Elliott bluntly. "If need be, I will call your mom…"
"Okay, fine, we will go, but I still think that you might be worrying too much over nothing," Beats answered. "I do love the fact that you are though…" he added, before kissing his husband.
"I will see you at the Spotlight at 2.30 or so then. Try not to be late," said Elliott firmly, and then he chuckled despite himself as Beats saluted him in reply. With that, Elliott headed back downstairs to finally get his toast, and Beats got out of bed properly.
"You do need to go and get them checked properly," said Blaine then, which made Beats jump, as he had forgotten the angel was there. "It could be a warning sign of something else, and not just a side effect of your glaucoma."
"I know, but the truth is, I am scared of what they might tell me… It is bad enough to know that in time the world will blur and fade for me, but the darkness…" Beats said no more, and all Blaine could do was nod in understanding.
As soon as his work for the day was done, Beats dutifully headed to the Spotlight to find his husband waiting for him outside. "Punctual as ever, which is a good thing, because we have an appointment with your consultant in about half an hour. I called up, he was on duty, and I told him that it was urgent."
"It isn't all that urgent; I can see perfectly again now," protested Beats.
"Less than 10 hours ago you were to all intents and purposes blind. I told him that, and he agreed with me; it is an urgent issue," replied Elliott, hailing a cab as he spoke. "And as for 'seeing perfectly', if that is true and your sight is back to normal, why are you still wearing your glasses? You've never worn them on the street before, you only ever wear them at the office…"
"I just forgot to take them off!" said Beats tetchily, but then, seeing the look of disbelief on his husbands face, he gave a defeated sigh. "Okay, so maybe when I took them off after I finished my work, things were a little blurry…"
Elliott shook his head, then motioned his husband towards the yellow cab that had just pulled up. They sat in silence as they headed to the hospital, and didn't exchange many words as they headed through the corridors to the ophthalmology department. They arrived to find that the consultant was free, and so they were able to head straight in. Beats proceeded to tell them exactly what had happened, conscious that if he left out even the smallest detail, Elliott would speak up, concerned that even the most trivial things could be vitally important.
The doctor listened as he spoke, taking notes, and his face showed more than a little concern. As Beats finished up, he nodded, and then began to type into his desk computer. "So, I will need to run some tests on your eyes, but I do have an inkling as to what it might be already. Now, had the blindness been in only one eye, or had it been partial, I would be less worried, that much is true. Luckily, you tell me that your vision has more or less returned to normal, but if I am right, it could just as easily gone the other way. If it happens again, even if your sight returns, you need to come at once, regardless of the time. Right, so lets have a good look at what is happening…"
The tests took some time, but once they were over, the doctor returned to his seat, and said, "You have been very lucky; the issue seems to have been a brief one, and that is down largely to the fact that you are still relatively young. I think that what you had this morning was a central retinal artery occlusion. This is a blockage to the blood flow in that artery, which in your case cleared itself. There is still a tiny cherry red spot in both of your eyes, which is an indicator. It is a side effect of your glaucoma, but it is very rare in those under 60. I am going to run a few extra tests now on your blood pressure, blood sugar and cholesterol, as any issues there can be an exacerbating factor. Once we have eliminated those areas as possible causes, I will be able to know the best way of preventing this from happening again. Now, I do warn you that some of the treatments can be a little unpleasant and severe. Nobody ever likes the idea of having an injection directly into their eye…"
"Oh my God!" exclaimed Elliott, going a little green at the thought.
"Why am I suddenly hoping I have high blood pressure or diabetes?" remarked Beats.
"Oh, that course of treatment is rare in the extreme; in your case, it will probably just be a new formula of eye drops…"
Two sighs of relief echoed through the room at that, and the doctor just smiled as he prepared for the new set of tests…
It was a largely relieved couple that would arrive back in the West Village that evening, much later than they would have wished. The tests had all come back negative, the only thing out of the ordinary being Beat's blood pressure, but that was only to be expected in the circumstances. The next tests had been specifically on his eyes, none of them being too invasive, thankfully. The idea of having to inject something into his own eye still made Beats feel sick, and upset Elliott even more, given that if it came to that, he would in all likelihood have to be the one that did it for his husband… The results of those tests seemed to take forever to come back, and then the doctor had wished to discuss them with a group of his colleagues, to garner that all important second opinion. That had left them afraid of what they might be told when they were summoned back into his office.
"So, we are all agreed that our best course of action at this time is to change the formulation of your eye drops; the one we will be going you is one that we would normally only use on older patients in the later stages of glaucoma. The fact is that it is extremely rare for someone of your youth to suffer even temporary sight loss of this kind, and we want to keep you under close observation for the next few months. Hopefully it will not recur, but I have to be honest with you; it is a worrying development at this point. I know that you have always been aware that your sight would eventually deteriorate to the point where you will be unable to function as you do now; unfortunately, this could be an indicator that the time in question could come quicker than we would all wish. I can't give you a time frame, and I might be wrong, but it is best that we consider the worst case scenario now…"
"Which is..?" asked Beats, instinctively reaching over to take his husband's hand.
"The very worst case scenario would be that we would reach that point in a decade, but that is most unlikely…"
"But not impossible," said Beats, as calmly as he could. "Well, as you say, I knew that it would come, and it is the worst case. For now, I can see again, and hopefully the drops will do their work. Okay, we have taken up enough of your time today, so thanks again…"
Elliott was initially concerned at how calm his husband was being, but then he realised that his reaction was the right one; there was nothing to be achieved by anger and rage. They just had to accept whatever came with a good grace…
Of course, when they reached home, it was to be confronted at once by an anxious Dante. They had been compelled to ask him to give up his plans for the afternoon to take care of Ty, and they had to tell him why they were going to be out, and where they would be. Elliott had initially proposed a little white lie instead, but Beats had been against that. "He is an adult now, not a boy. We need to treat him like one. If the news we get is bad, then he will need to know, and if we've lied to him before, he will know, and that will upset him…"
So it was that once they were back inside the house, Elliott headed to the kitchen to finish the prep on the evening meal that Dante had begun, taking Ty with him. Beats ushered Dante into the sitting room, and closed the door behind him. He motioned to his adopted son to take a seat on the sofa, then sat down next to him. "The good news is that I can see properly again, the fuzziness I had earlier completely gone away. The even better news is that I just have to use a new kind of eye drops, because they did talk at one point about my having to have injections right into my…" He stopped then, noticing that Dante had gone a little green at the very notion, as he had done. "However, there is bad news. They think that my sight might fade sooner than they anticipated…" With that, he heard a sob, and saw the tears form in the corner of Dante's eyes, and he pulled the boy into a hug. "We always knew that this would happen, and well, if it is sooner, then we just need to accept it and deal with it sooner. There are things that I can do to stave it off. To begin with, I need to wear my glasses more often. I should have been doing that already, but like most men, I am a little vain about it, seeing them as a sign of aging. That stops now. I will just need to choose some new, more up to date frames…"
"Actually, the ones you have now are pretty cool," replied Dante, sniffing. "And if I don't see you wearing them, I might be forced to go out and buy you one of those horrendous chains so you can wear them round your neck…"
Beats would go on to phone Flint up later that night, and tell him what had happened that day; he could instantly hear the upset in his best friend's voice, and he immediately went about calming him. Unlike with Dante, he decided to omit the worst case scenario, because otherwise Flint would be right over, and probably grilling his wife for days too, asking endless questions about ophthalmology, and whether eyes could be transplanted…
That done, he shared the news with everyone else, as he knew that in time, it would get out; being a close knit group meant that secrets rarely stayed that way for long. The response he received was in no way surprising; sympathy and offers of help…
But there was one reply that set him thinking; one of his fellow Warblers saying that his news had given him cause to think too, and that he needed to throw off his own concerns about getting glasses. If Beats could wear them all the time, then so could he, and he was going to make an appointment to see an optician as soon as he could, as he had been having a little bit of eyestrain himself…. Beats replied that he was glad that his news had helped him to come to that sensible conclusion; then he wished Nick all the best for the moment that he had to confide the news in Jeff…
Nick would broach the topic with Jeff the following morning, and it took all of his powers of persuasion to convince his husband that they did not need to go straight to the hospital to see an eye specialist. "It is all a part of the aging process, Jeffie. When I was a little kid, my mom didn't have glasses, and now she does. I am going to go and see an optician and whilst there is no urgency, I will try and get an appointment this week to make you happy. Of course, maybe you should come and get your eyes checked at the same time. You never can be too careful when it comes to your sight…"
"My eyes are perfectly okay," responded Jeff, "but I will come along with you to make sure that you are okay."
"Of course, if that makes you happier," said Nick with a chuckle. He went back then to what he had been doing, mixing up a large batch of dough for chocolate chip cookies; the tin seemed to be a lot emptier than it should have been when he looked this morning, although he had a good idea where those cookies had gone… In fact, as he glanced at his husband, he could almost hear their son doing his usual impression of that Sesame Street character…
"Of course," Jeff said thoughtfully, "Beats thought that his eyes were perfectly okay too, before he ended up in the hospital defending Elliott; maybe you are right, and I should get an appointment for a test too, just to be on the safe side…"
"There would be no harm in it," replied Nick, his concentration on his baking. He heard his husband walking out of the room then, and so he carried on, getting the dough perfected and then setting out his baking sheets, carefully spooning out identically sized balls of the mixture, and placing them with precision equidistant from each other. He smiled as he recalled the first time that he had ever made cookies, the first thing he had ever baked in fact; it had been when he was a sophomore at Dalton, and under Kurt's tutelage. Then he had managed to bake one large, strangely shaped cookie, his mixture having spread and joined up in the baking process. It had still tasted good though…
"How long will it be until those are ready?" came his husband's voice, and Nick had to suppress a laugh.
"They will take the usual time to bake, my love, so it will be at least half an hour until you will be able to eat one."
"I don't want to eat one," replied Jeff, causing Nick to jerk his head up in shock and stare. "I called the opticians, and they had slots available today, so we are booked in for our eye exams in two hours time…"
Nick could only resign himself to the fact that his plans for the day had now been turned on their head. As they left the house, he sent a text to Beats - 'Well, I told him… Guess where we are going right now? - and Nick would later swear he had heard the sound of Beats laughing as they walked down the street. Wes also found himself being bundled up in his winter coat and taken out of the house as well, ruining his plans for an afternoon of origami; however, the moment that they stepped into the opticians shop near Union Square, he found himself fascinated. There were a couple of children in his glass at school who wore glasses, and he had to admit that he liked the way that they looked on them; it made them look as if they were smart. He knew that his fathers were both smart, so it made sense that they were going to have them…
Nick's appointment was first, so he left his husband and son sitting in the reception area; however, a minute later Jeff found himself being called as the other optician was available early, and he had no option other than to take Wes in with him. His son was quite happy to sit quietly behind his papa, and watch in awe as the optician made all of her checks, then ran through the standard tests. At first, he thought it was odd that she was making his papa read out random letters, but then he realised why they were getting smaller as they went down the page, and why they weren't words that could be guessed. The tests were still going on when he saw the door open a little, and his dad standing there, beckoning him to come out…
Outside, Wes asked, "Did you have to read out all of the letters like papa?" and Nick nodded. "Do you think that I could have a shot at doing it? Is there a prize for who can get the most right?"
Ni ck smiled, and replied, "No, there isn't a prize, and although you can't have a shot today, maybe we should get you an eye test as well some time soon."
"So, what did the man say? Do you have to wear glasses now because you are smart enough?"
Nick looked a little confused at that, but just responded, "I think that we should wait until papa is here, and then you can both find out together what he said…"
An hour later, they were back home in the West Village, Nick making hot chocolate, and Wes holding out the now full cookie tin to his father. Jeff smiled and took one. "I think that you could have two this time," said Nick, and his husband did not argue…
"I deserve two, given that I am a little upset. You are the one that was having the pain in his eyes, and they tell you that you don't need glasses yet, but come back in six months because you will need them eventually. I'm the one that had no problems, that can see everything perfectly, and I am the one that is getting a pair of glasses now!"
"Well, yes," replied Nick in a placatory voice, "but only for seeing distance, so only if you are driving, or we are going to sit near the back of the theatre."
"I think that the only reason you need them, papa, is because you are so smart," said Wes sweetly. "Also, the frames that you chose are very stylish; Uncle Kurt whispered as much to me…"
Jeff started a little at that, and said in a huffed voice, "Wait, he was in the room and he didn't say anything to me!"
"I think that he wanted to," replied his son, "but he thought you looked very sad."
Nick had to concur with that, recalling just how upset his husband had been at the news, particularly when he realised that Nick wasn't getting a pair too. "Well, I think that the glasses will really suit you anyway. And Kurt was right, the frames are perfect; very Bohemian, just like my talented husband…"
Jeff huffed at that, but as he bit into his second cookie, he smiled…