I was lying on a gurney waiting for eye surgery. I refused to let the nurses put the required green fabric cap on my head. When you have no control, you control your headgear. No one looks good in that cap. Did I think the doctor would find me unattractive and let the knife slip? “She’s not looking her best, let’s blind her.” A few weeks earlier the doctor informed me that he would be cutting the muscle in my left eye. I made lots of jokes about surgical mishaps. I told anyone who would listen that if the surgery didn’t go well, I could always wear a patch and become a pirate. I wasn’t nervous because he was operating on my bad eye. I could still see pretty well without it. During my preoperative visit, the doctor mentioned that he was cutting the muscles in both eyes to move them into a position of single vision. I was shocked. I hadn’t listened properly before. I have selective hearing. I listen to the start of the sentence but midway I’ve moved on and left the conversation. I had no jokes to tell myself. I was scared. I wasn’t ready to lose my vision. I had the best doctor possible, but there are no guarantees. I prayed the night before the surgery for god to guide the surgeon’s hands. I lay on the gurney, wished the doctor good luck, and let the nurses put the green cap on my head. There are moments when you surrender completely. A single tear ran down my face, I wasn’t scared anymore, I was letting go. Whatever was in store for me would be part of my unique journey in this life. Sometimes all you can do is hope for the best and know that however the dice may roll you will figure out a new way to survive. The surgery went well, but I’ve never forgotten that single tear of surrender. Life’s a mystery. Sometimes your only choice is to put the green cap on and let it all go.