"Your Optic Nerve is Pink with Clear Margins."

My optometrist asked his usual questions in his unique and timberous voice. He was our hidden gem in an unassuming WalMart vision center. The proverbial "DIners, Drive-ins, and Dives" find in the world of optometry. He was highly intelligent and very knowledgable, although very quiet and introverted. After six years of exams and 4 out of 6 Williamses in glasses, we had finally started to see his slightly-less-than-serious side.

"Any changes in your vision in the last twelve months?"

"No."

"Okay," he said as he turned to put my chart down, "Great."

"But, I was recently diagnosed with MS."

He kept the chart.

He offered the usual, "I am sorry," and I countered with the usual, "I will be fine." We had some short polite conversation about how a positive atitude is everything, while I just continued to smile. I am surrounded by many breathing testaments to the power of positivity and a general joie de vivre. He is one of them.

Like our primary care physician, our eye doctor also has unique physical charateristics that are remnants of childhood illnesses. Our eye doctor looks as if a form of polio left its mark, while our primary proudly wears the battle scars of childhood leukemia. My painting instructor, who I traveled through Italia with in 2014, blew off his left hand with a shot gun at age 11.

This incident is only a mere blip on the screen of JD's full, vibrant, rich, and abundant life that is absolutely overflowing with love and positivity, free of any bitterness, resentment, or misery that a lesser human, such as me, would succumb to. As he paints away with his right hand, showing us proper techniques from this school of thought and that, we were enthralled not only by his brush strokes, but also his tales of traveling the globe, building houses in other countries with his father, humanitarian missions in Tasmania, his hilarious language gaffs while learning Samoan while growing up in American Samoa. Playing on his high school football team. The track team. You name it. Whenever a student would respond with a look of astonishment as he recalled the details of his championship relay race, he would often give a puzzled look, as if he had no idea why any would think he was less than capable at doing absolutely anything. The added bonus, his jokes about his baby hand were beyond hilarious.

At 50+ years young, JD has also had prostrate cancer, a heart attack, and a stroke in the last few years. He shrugs these off, of course, and focuses on the fact that he is healthy, physically fit, with a sublime lust for life. And man, oh man, the way he paints.

These are a few of the individuals I call to mind when I answer that "I will be fine," because I know on the deepest level possible that I will be because I will choose to be. No matter the circumstances. So as my eye doctor and I shifted to the light-hearted conversation of colored contacts, our sombre tone shifted to one of fun.

"I haven't worn grey contacts since my 20's," I laughed, as I realized that was two decades ago.

"Well, let's help you recapture your youth and have some fun," he said as he headed out the door, " well, some more fun."

I left the appointment with a smile, a few samples of eye colors, in case I wanted to try something new, and my prescription renewed for another year. Oh, and my optic nerve is still pink and healthy with no signs of the damage that can be caused by MS. And I still don't need bifocals. Boom.