I am feeling sorry for myself, possibly for good reason. Feeling sorry for oneself doesn’t change anything, but sometimes it’s a needed release, and sometimes it can spur us to productive action. So I’m going to indulge myself, and if nothing comes out of it but another blog post, then I’ll have accomplished one thing. I’d rather be doing a blog post on the Scottish referendum, but perhaps that will wait till the results are in.
My eye problems have worsened over the past few years as I was drained by that thing I thought was a marriage but wasn’t, at least on the part of my wife. Without family or a good support system, just getting to an ophthalmologist was a transportation hurdle I couldn’t cross. And that was made even more of an obstacle because I can’t to go just “any” eye doctor. My eye condition was present at birth, 57 years ago, and so most eye doctors, with the improvements in treatment techniques, medications, and surgeries, have never seen the complications I grew up with. For best care, I need a top notch ophthalmologist — and not just one, but specialists in glaucoma, cataracts and aphakia, and corneal diseases.
I have been having a lot of eye pain (not trivial for someone who fell asleep while having a tattoo done), and so I finally managed to get to an eye doctor several months ago. Due to transportation limitations, I was forced to go to “just any old eye doctor,” and she alarmed me by finding my eye pressure to be about 26 in both eyes — 12 to 15 is normal. I suspected she was wrong because of relative lack of experience, and because I know what it feels like when my pressure is too high. But still, the worry, and the possibility of irreversibly optic nerve damage. She referred me to the glaucoma specialist I would have gone to had the transportation not been an issue.
I got my act together, scrambled around, and solved the transportation issue, seeing Dr. Weiss last month. Per my suspicion, my glaucoma pressure was in an acceptable range — about 18. High enough that it needs to be checked regularly in case it gets worse, but not bad enough that medical intervention is immediately required. A follow-up visit was had last week, and the pressure was still okay, but my corneas were in very bad shape, oozing strings of crud, hence the severe pain I’d been enduring.
I was given an urgent appointment with the cornea specialist for this past Monday, but again, for lack of transportation, I had to move the appointment to tomorrow. I’m a bundle of nerves, and waiting for the results of the Scottish referendum is keeping my mind off the worrisome possibilities.
Sharing a few photographs from my “eye history” along with a chuckle or two…
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