The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]

No seriously. It’s bordering on embarrassingly cheery and happy. Admittedly, cheery and happy for me – but given so many people have contributed to the reason for this, I’m hoping it has some positive effect on you too.

So as the title of this post states – a lot can happen in 12 months.

I appreciate you’re saying “no shit”, but as I pointed out, I’m not talking about global events, tech companies or the economy … I’m talking about this from a very, very personal point of view.

Truth be told, when you get to my age, a lot of life has found its natural rhythm so while there will be ups and downs, overall you tend to know how to surf life’s waves.

But the last year for me was pretty extreme.

Don’t get me wrong, the overall view of the year was good – as I wrote about here – but apart from the tragedy of losing many friends and a fucked-up situation with someone I thought was a better human than they proved themselves to be, the biggest challenge I faced was my sight.

I’ve had eye problems since I was 21 but in January 2025, my ‘good’ eye got an infection in Penang, Malaysia that commenced one of the worst medical rollercoasters I’ve had in my life.

And I’ve had a few.

What was initially considered to be a few weeks of discomfort turned into weekly – often daily – hospital visits, endless tests, a range of medical experts being called in, over 50 meds-a-day, a diagnosis so rare it become a medical ‘white paper’ and … worst of all … blindness.

Proper blindness.

The impact of all this on my mental health was pretty severe. To be honest, I hadn’t really realised how much until the festive holiday where my body had the time to finally start to loosen the tension it had been holding – and this was despite visiting a psychologist both after a particularly bad test result and when I was weighing up whether to do the operation as the risks were pretty high.

I say all this because last week I went in for another check-up. My first of the new year … and while the operation had been a success – thanks to my doctor, my surgeons and the intervention of the wonderful PM and his high profile ‘clients’, who organised the specialist who actually invented the operation I was going to have, to come to NZ and consult on my procedure – we didn’t know if it would turnaround my situation.

The good news was after the op, I had some vision – which was a massive news, however I couldn’t see much other than certain blurs of beige.

But over the weeks, with the post-op meds, rest and time – I did sense things were improving, but given one of the issues I had was pressure build up [which you don’t feel] I was pretty apprehensive.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, my check-up revealed the pressure was very good – as in, ‘fully under control’, which meant the main part of the operation had not just worked, but was holding. But then the shockingly good news.

My eyesight was better than my other eye.

That’s right, my operated eye was – under certain conditions – performing better than the eye I’d been relying on for the past 12 months. The irony being that eye was previously shit given my detached retina when I was 21 … but such is the magic of the brain, it has somehow improved to compensate for for my blindness, but now – as the other eye was getting better – it decided not to try so hard.

I cannot tell you what it felt like to hear that.

To be fair, even the specialist and surgeon were shocked at the level and speed of improvement … but they have not just given me the ability to see again, they’ve almost returned my eyesight to pre-illness levels.

No more bumping into people.
No more having my phone screen on max zoom.
No more going to hospital every day and week.
And maybe, no more dressing like a ‘festival chick’ for the Colenso Christmas party.
[Which happened post-op so I literally have zero excuse, haha]

I know, your eyes are now fucked after that image aren’t they. Sorry. At least I can recommend some excellent medical experts. You’re welcome – hahaha.

Anyway, while I’ll need medication for the rest of my life, have regular check-ups and be mindful of lifting heavy items … it really feels like I’ve been given my whole life back.

I know that sounds dramatic. I know there are many others worse off than I ever was or would have been. And I appreciate I was very lucky that I saw a GP quickly … they recognised the severity of the problem straight away … and I had the insurance – and unexpected contacts – who got me the best specialists and surgeons in the country (and worldwide) but there were moments where I felt, with good reason, that the life I had may be taken away from me.

I know I’d have survived.
I know I’d have got through it.
But the problem is at the time, you focus on what’s going to change rather than what you’re going to do … which is why I’m so grateful to everyone who helped, supported and encouraged me over the past 12 months.

From family and friends to nurses and doctors to colleagues and clients to acquaintances and strangers. All of you helped make sure that however dark some moments were, the light was never completely out. Even it is was in my eye. Ha.

So thank you. Thank you so, so much.

And god bless medicine and all you work with it and practice it. At a time where we have global leaders trying to diminish and undermine medical science and medical care, it’s the doctors and nurses we should be listening to, celebrating and compensating – they’re the hero’s, not the entitled egotists who claim to represent the people but only care for themselves.

And if I thought I could see through their bullshit before, I can see it even more clearly now.

Literally and metaphorically.