Today, at least in my world, technology is a bodily appendage. Today, as the stitching between technology appendages and people seems to only strengthen, I think it can be easy to forget that the features technology offer don’t necessarily seep into the body. For instance there is no “undo,” and “reset” option.
Approximately six weeks after I began taking medication daily for acne, I began losing my vision; day by day, hour by hour. After EXTREME healthcare measures and a wonderful support system, over the next months, my eyesight has returned; though not to its full capacity. My eyes are in pain after a day of schoolwork; I can no longer pick up a book anytime I want to read. My symptoms are always changing, but some days I see floaters, black dots in my line of sight, other times I see auras and hazes, and sometimes a film colors my entire visual field. I write this NOT asking for pity or sympathy, but because I am crying out for an “undo” button or even a “reset” option. But this cry is futile, because humans are not technology.
My psyche, over these last few months, is slowly
resetting adapting. In order to survive I must acknowledge there is no “reset,” no “undo,” no “buying a new body.” Instead I embrace what eyesight I do have, treasuring the miracle of the human body’s “humanness;” its ability to cope with the blind spots that are the most natural parts of life. Perhaps, in some sick and beautiful way, my vision is better than ever before.
Laura Newman Eckstein is the Judaica Digital Humanities Coordinator a the University of Pennsylvania. She is an enthusiastic cartophile, a digital humanities lover, and creative spirit. Currently, Laura lives in Philadelphia, where she enjoys spending her free time exploring the city with friends, reading books, and playing with her landlord's dog.