[ WP ] Someone experiences a color they previously could n't see for the first time .

# # # # # # [ ] ( # dropcap ) 
 
 The doctors say I'll be able to recognize the entire palette of visible light by tomorrow. 
 
 However, at this point I just want to go home. My weary eyes drain my energy, and to be frank, I'm a little skeptical about the procedure. The experts told me beforehand that it is fairly safe with minimal to no side effects. I have been cautiously optimistic, but now that it had been completed, and my vision is blocked by an eye mask, I see nothing but a blank black void with splotches theorized to be the evidence of neutrinos. My caution grows slow and steady like a rocket launch—the point of atmospheric escape is to the rocket as the results of the procedure is to my caution. 
 
 I have been instructed to stay the night for my eyes to recover. A distinct scent dances on my olfactories, a smell so uncommon in a normal person's everyday life, yet I know it well for I had memorized it as a kid. I had underwent test after test, year after year, ever since I was a small boy. You can imagine I had become familiarized with the hospital ’ s scent. Even after less than a handful of decades had passed, there is no way I could have forgotten it. 
 
 My childhood naiveté had often attracted puzzled looks and alienating treatment from my schoolmates. I remember one time before I had been diagnosed with deuteranomaly—red-green color blindness—I had asked my classmates to play on the orange soccer field at the back of our school. They had cautiously corrected me with furrowed brows, but quickly shrugged it off in order to play. I had went along with what they said, but I knew, or I thought I knew, the field's grass was the color orange and not green. I had been enrolled in my first or second year of public school, at the time, when my teacher reported my confusion to my parents; when my hospital visits have begun. 
 
 Now I lay on the soft white sheets in the building I have come to know on an intimate level. I am free to do as I please, within the doctor's orders, but I would rather not disturb the nurses. They have plenty of other patients in dire need than to help a temporarily blind man. For instance my roommate constantly calls for the nurses due to his terminal cancer. I would be remiss to take his time with the nurses away by calling them to set up a podcast for me to listen to throughout the night. I'll be leaving in the morning, while he will still be here indefinitely. 
 
 My mind drifts from thought to thought, until the sandman pulls me under. Before I realize what's happening, a nurse brings me out of a deep slumber, and guides me into a chair across from my doctor. 
 
 `` Well then, are you excited, Tom? If all had gone accordingly, you will be able to see all the colors Newton bequeathed us.'' 
 
 `` Yes, Dr. Sullivan, I am thrilled.'' 
 
 `` Good, good. Nurse Charan will now unwrap the eye mask. As he does this, I will explain what will happen. The lights are currently dimmed to nearly being off. We will increase the intensity slowly until the lights turn completely on.'' 
 
 I open my eyes with a slight hesitation. Dr. Sullivan is right. I almost ca n't see anything. Everything is blurred. Charan increases the intensity of light and suddenly I can begin to make out faint objects due to the brightness but there is still blurriness. Another increase and the blurriness begins to fade. There is a curious scene in front of me. The doctor's voice had come from in front of me, but I do not see his silhouette. No. I see the silhouette of two... people. 
 
 I am caught off guard by tears rolling down both of my cheeks. I realize my face is hot, my nose is flaring up, my mouth forms a downward crescent, and there is a twisting in my stomach. I wipe my tears away with both of my forearms. 
 
 I open my eyes slowly, the light bulbs are at full intensity, and I see my aging parents for the first time in my life. Their graying hair is absolute, but their clothes... 
 
 My mother wears her favorite flowery red rose dress, the pattern is unmistakable—over the years, I had help identifying what colors the different shades of blue and yellow represented. But this sensation of finally seeing the color red for the first time is indescribable. Her once medium-yellow garment is now a vibrant dancing warm sight—the popping petals penetrate my eyes. 
 
 My father is wearing what he calls his brown corduroy pants and green button up dress shirt. I had always known his slacks to be a deep dark almost black yellow, and his shirt had been an off dark almost grey yellow. His combination of outfit colors must make him look like a tree. I ca n't help but smile at the thought, and my parents smile back in turn. His corduroys look solid, the ridges are like the bark of a tree. His shirt is just as visually appealing as mother's red dress, but in a whole new shade—no, a whole new color—I can only imagine what leaves and grass might look like. 
 
 But this is enough for now. I'm content with seeing my parents in a whole new way. These new colors dig down deep into my soul where this memory will reside for the rest of my life.
