Grace on Many Levels
- Anna Maria De Guid
- Aug 11
- 3 min read
On Sunday, August 2, around 8:00 p.m., while working on my laptop, I noticed a dull headache above my right eye. At the same time, I also noticed a subtle haze over my vision. It was like looking through a very thin film of white, something that one sees during a cold and misty morning. For the next hour, I asked myself and my husband what it could be. I thought that maybe I could simply sleep it off, and the pain would be gone by morning. My cloudy vision didn’t concern me.
About an hour later, I asked my husband if I should go to the hospital. He suggested we go to the Emergency Room, just to be sure everything was fine. He mentioned it might just be a migraine, though he admitted he wasn't sure, since I had never suffered from migraines before.
At the ER, the medical team acted quickly, initially working to rule out a stroke. But when they tested my eye, the reading concerned them: my eye pressure was at 77. Normal pressure is in the teens.
Immediately, the atmosphere shifted. I was rushed into a room, started on an intravenous drip, and given eye drops every three minutes.
The diagnosis was acute angle-closure glaucoma. The doctor spoke with serious concern, telling me that if I had waited any longer, I could have lost my eyesight completely! (Looking back, I still don't fully understand why those words didn't move my composure.) Even after an hour of aggressive treatment, the pressure had only crept down from 77 to 74. Yet, despite the clear concern in the doctor’s voice, I remained utterly still and at peace.
Around midnight, I began to pray, asking St. Martin de Porres to intercede for me to Jesus and the Blessed Mother to stay by my side. (My mom told me to pray to St. Martin de Porres when health issues come up.)
Between midnight and 3:00 a.m., as I drifted in and out of sleep, the doctor returned intermittently, holding up his fingers in front of my face and asking if I could see them. The last time he checked, I told him I couldn't see his hand anymore. All that remained was his silhouetted figure set against a backdrop of flashing lights and various shades of white.
Gradually over the next three hours, the pressure began to yield. The ER doctor explained that as soon as the reading reached 30, I would need an immediate laser procedure.
Once the numbers dropped to this threshold, we left the hospital and went straight to another Kaiser facility to meet the eye surgeon. Although the waiting room was filled with patients, we were escorted inside the moment we arrived. One of the first things the surgeon said to me was, "People lose their eyesight this way, simply because they wait." (I was struck by these words because the ER doctor said the same thing.) When I asked when he planned to perform the laser surgery, he looked at me and said, "Now. As in NOW, NOW."
Only then did the urgency of the situation begin to sink in. And yet, even then, no panic came. No fear, no anxiety, only peace.
Around 10:00 a.m. on Monday, our 13-hour ordeal ended. We returned home, and I slowly slipped back into my usual routine. As if nothing happened.
It wasn't until Tuesday afternoon, while kneeling in prayer and giving my customary thanks to God, that I traced the timeline from that Sunday night to the ER to the laser surgery on Monday morning.
In that quiet moment, the dam broke. Tears flowed uncontrollably as the reality finally hit me: I was mere hours away from total blindness!
Only then did I fully grasp the magnitude of the healing grace!
I am sharing this so that others might recognize the warning signs of this sudden condition, and as a gentle reminder to keep God close in your heart, for His grace is always quietly at work, even when we cannot see it. Yet.
My name's Anna Maria, and I share videos on YouTube's Touched by Grace Today and post on my blog touchedbygrace.today every other week! Check out Catholicmom.com for my other articles! If you've been #tbgtoday, feel free to share your story of grace here.
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