Sheer dumb luck

I have no idea who's in charge, but I know I'm not.

Flashback #1 - Weary of the demands of an older home, I decided to make the condo move. My hunt for just the right space met with success. Then my bank guy called. "I can't approve you for this," he said. What?! My credit report was showing a five-figure debt, a loan that absolutely was not mine. Eventually it got sorted out, but in the six weeks (yes, six weeks) that it took to correct the mistake, the housing bubble burst, the stock market tanked . . . and I breathed a deep sigh of relief that I wasn't stuck with a new mortgage on top of diminished investments and a big house that would take too long to sell for too little.

Flashback #2 - I was all set to commune with the loons. I planned to camp around Lake Superior and  venture into the wilderness of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area. A fifth eye surgery (yes, a fifth) forced a postponement. As a result, instead of being beyond pavement and out of cell phone reach in northern Minnesota, I was at home when the warranty ran out on my appendix. The EMS wagon was in my driveway almost before I finished reciting my address. Six days (yes, six days) in the hospital was not the vacation I had in mind, but I lived to gripe about it. Which would not have been the case if I'd had my way.

A sixth ophthalmological procedure is now on my calendar. This one is no big deal, barely a blip compared to two transplanted corneas. (Yes, I look at the world through other people's eyes.) That I can see at all, that I live with these challenges in this rich place at this amazing time instead of ending up as some tiger's lunch, is no minor miracle. Just sheer dumb luck, eh?