I am not surprised that things are pretty much the same in my life. I didn’t expect anything more than what I have now. I worked very hard to surround myself with genuine people and to create a normal life for myself. I am still the same person. It just means that physically， perhaps， I can share more and put the two together： the feelings I had， with sight.
The same doctor who told me I would never see again told me I had regained 80 percent of the vision in my left eye. To be able to look him in the eye and tell him I could see again—honestly， that felt pretty damn good. He ran all the tests and made me read the eye chart， but he has no explanation. He said to himself， and still says， that once the optic nerve is damaged， it cannot regenerate .
I don’t think the knock on the head had anything to do with it. If others want to believe that is how it happened， that is fine. But I consider this a miracle. There is no other way to describe it. Some things just cannot be explained. Of course， some people are skeptical. For me， it is precious. I try not to think about the possibility of going blind again. But my recovery would be no less a miracle even if I lost my sight tomorrow.
11岁那年，我被诊断患有脑瘤。我进行了切除手术，但肿瘤的大小和位置却导致我的视觉神经萎缩。3年后，我还能看见一点点东西，但眼科医生说我最终会失明。快过完14岁时，医生断言我已经完全失明，并且没有办法治疗。当时，我患上脑瘤后，存活的机率只有5%，结果我活了下来，但对于即将失明的现实，我却无能为力。我努力表现得一切正常，但当它真正成为现实时，我却绝望了。
5岁那年，父亲离开了我们，这简直令我无法承受。正因为如此，再加上处于失明最痛苦的时期，我最大的恐惧是没有人再爱我，我永远都不能结婚，不能有自己的孩子和一个完整的生活。我害怕孤独。我想，这些就是我当时对失明的理解。