Jillian's Story. Robin Benoit

ten minutes, but it seemed like hours.

      He came back into the room and told me he had called the Children’s Hospital and that an ophthalmologist would see Jillian in a week. Had he not called, it could have been weeks or months before we got an appointment. He patted me on the back and told me everything would be OK, but I felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. Jillian and I headed home, where I knew I could have a good cry and talk to my husband, who would no doubt handle all of this much better than me.

      I married the greatest of men, the perfect match for me—a man who is always calm in the face of adversity. He seems to have this innate or military-trained ability to handle everything rationally. Not that he isn’t emotional or caring—quite the opposite. Although he was just as worried and upset about Jillian, he was strong and solid that first evening while I, on the other hand, was a wreck. I’m very good at bouncing back and going forward with a great attitude, but I really needed to cry first.

      The day finally came for Jillian to see the specialist at the Children’s Hospital. He struck me as being extremely intelligent and well-educated. He seemed older, which gave me confidence that he was well-versed and experienced in helping children with vision problems. We were in his office for at least two hours. Eye drops were put in Jillian’s eyes to dilate them so that he could get a good initial screening. He had electronic puppets that Jillian thought were so cute. The penguin would dance and the puppy would bark and, as she watched them, he studied her eyes. After a thorough evaluation, he met with Jillian and me and told us that she had amblyopia.