Now I am Bazooka Joe, Destroyer of Worlds

Retina failure was just the beginning of surgery and blindness that made me see

A funny thing happened on my way to building the East Coast Comicon and recovering from Lyme disease -- the retina in my left eye failed. After five unsuccessful operations, I accepted my fate and went on with life. By then, we were in the middle of a pandemic, and I had concluded that running a convention was not what I wanted to do, regardless of when the lockdown ended. I decided to use the time in seclusion to work on a creative project that had gnawed at me for the ten years I worked as a promoter. Thirteen months later, I finished my first sci-fi novel manuscript. But my left eye continued to fuck with me. No longer happy to be the darling of my disabilities; it continued to decay and ache over the next year. It eventually added an infection to boost the misery index.

Recently, I underwent an operation called an evisceration on the troublesome eye. The eyeball had atrophied to two-thirds its original size, and the surgeon reflated it with a compound to restore its original diameter. This was followed by slicing off the front of the eye and replacing it with a cosmetic lens. All of this was to preserve the look of a normal eye. The muscle remained attached to what was left of the original eye so that when my good eye moved, the dead one would follow. But before all of that happens, I'll need to heal from the surgery, which left me looking more like I needed an operation than just had one.

So here I am, on the mend but looking more like the bubblegum mascot Bazooka Joe than a sci-fi author (whatever a sci-fi author is supposed to look like). I've reached the age where parts are beginning to fail, and the warranties have long run out. Yet I remain grateful. I have many friends who are suffering from debilitating and terminal diseases, strokes, or other horrors. Many old pals died early. I consider myself lucky to be here, relatively healthy, active, and still creating at a high level. I continue to learn new skills and am involved in several new ventures. Life, as it turns out, is full of landmines and many oases.