I have macular degeneration which may, sooner or later, cause blindness.  My opthalmologist helps me stall this process by giving me regular injections of a drug called Avastin.  I have the "wet" type of MD which, thankfully, can be treated.  So far, the treatment has been successful for nearly 16 years without any significant change in my eyesight.  The drug used to "dry" my eyes was very expensive, costing my insurance company, the government and me about $2500 per session or more than $21,000 a year.  Avastin (bevacizumab) , a tumor shrinking drug, which was used "off label" to treat MD was not approved by the FDA so insurance would not pay for it.  Avistan is now covered by insurance and costs a little over $200 a pop which comes to about $3400 a year -- not bad for the "priceless gift" of sight.  There is a side effect.  Every Seventh Tuesday my eyes are so sore, my vision so blurry and my nose so runny that i can forget about engaging in any useful activityu and i usually spend the day either napping or feeling sorry for myself.  Yesterdau was a pretty good day compared to other seventh Tiuesdays, but i still spent most of it thinking about myself.




Working on my Al Anon 4th step, it would be really helpful if i knew myself better.  I am not aware of many of the events which have occurred in  my life and many that i did conciously participated in were immediately forgotten.  I cannot remember a single instance of interaction with members of my family in any one of my eight childhood homes.  Most of my memories have to do with school, my love life, or my (preferred) soliitude.  Many of the questioos abd suggestions made for doing the "inventory" seem beyond my ability.  The information simply isn't in my memory banks.

But it occurred to me yesterday that my life did have a soundtrack which runs from the early 1940s through the mid 1960s (at which point i begin to have real memories of actuak events, i think).  For insstance, "You can holler down my rain barrel" reminds me of the rage and sadness i felt over a  pertcieved injustice to one of my classmates in second or third grade.  "Goodnight Irene" is a reminder of suicidal thoughts i becan having in my mid teens.