We are well into Maycember here in Valencia, and I’m more than ready for the school year to come to a close. But before it ends, life decided to throw one more curveball at me on top of our upcoming move.
Next week, I’m having cataract surgery on my right eye. The following week, I’ll have surgery on the left eye.
I know what you’re probably thinking. “You’re not old enough for cataracts!”
I’ve learned I have the perfect setup for early cataracts, including severe myopia. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg for my eye issues. In other words, I won the genetic lottery for eye problems. Yay, me.
Over the next few weeks, things are gonna be a little slow around here. Between kids’ end-of-school-year activities, surgery recovery, and a move, I’m at capacity.
I could have put off surgery until mid-June or even this fall, but given our upcoming summer travel, I wanted plenty of time to heal and enjoy our trips with the best vision possible. Mid-June would be cutting it close when we factored in recovery time. It became a choice between doing the surgeries in the middle of our move and the end of the school year or maybe cancelling our upcoming trip if things went south.
This is the non-glamorous part of life abroad—the part that is still “life” even when you’re living in a beautiful part of the world you’ve always dreamed about.
It’s all going to be okay. Yet, as a mom, it’s tough to let go of some of the control. I’m used to handling household logistics and running the home like a well-oiled machine. Relinquishing it to Will—at least in part—is hard for me, but make no mistake. The man is fully capable and has taken over several times before.
When you move abroad, it can be hard to look beyond the “let’s just get there” feelings to think about what might be on the road ahead, e.g. cataract surgery in another language. Fortunately for me, my doctor speaks fluent English, but that may not always be the case, especially if you’re in the public healthcare system versus the private one my family uses. And even in the private system, you may run into communication issues.
This is where I’ll reemphasize putting time in to learn the language. Last summer, a doctor at the hospital we use regularly completely refused to speak in English (even though he spoke enough to tell me he wouldn’t speak to me in English). Maybe those were the few words he knew. Maybe he was having a bad day. Maybe he doesn’t like Americans. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. The point is, if I’d had more Spanish, he might have helped me, and I would’ve been on my way.
Learning the language of your host country is sort of like unlocking a door. Once you have the key, the whole world opens up. Lately, I’m leaning hard on Dreaming Spanish to learn new vocabulary, sentence structure, and pronunciation. In my opinion, nothing can replace practicing with real live humans (like a class), but I just don’t currently have capacity to add anything else in. Another class is likely in my future, hopefully this autumn.
If I’m less present on Substack over the next few weeks, I don’t want to leave anyone hanging. I’ll still be checking in with Notes, writing a post here and there, but my cadence will be interrupted while I recuperate from eye surgery.
Hasta pronto …
Jen
I write about building a life in Spain—slowly, imperfectly, and with a lot of trial and error. If you’re not already subscribed, I’d love to have you.
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Sending good healing wishes your way
Aw that’s a lot with the big move, surgeries, school ending and trips coming up. Good luck! My mom had a cataract surgery a couple of years ago and it went very smoothly with easy recovery, so I hope yours goes well too.