The dodgy eye saga continues. Yesterday I went to the eye specialist at the hospital after being referred by the neurologist. So far so good. I settled down with a newspaper and waited. And waited. And waited. No mobile phone reception either, grrr.
Then a nurse called me in and squirted my eyes with stinging liquid to dilate my pupils. I joked that a glass of wine would have done the trick just as well, but the sun wasn’t yet over the yardarm. She popped me back to the waiting room with the warning that my vision would be blurry for up to six hours.
After the receptionist had left for lunch, I was still waiting. I picked up my book but couldn’t read it, so played solitaire on the phone for the next hour, squinting at the screen through one eye. Finally, I was called in and my eyes were squirted again and I was weeping yellow tears. Ewww.
Lots of eyeball to eyeball contact with the doctor, then he went off to consult with someone else. By this time, I’m quite worried. I had seen that he’d drawn two eyeballs on his notes with lots of squiggly lines on one of them. When he came back, he told me the good news was that I didn’t have optic neuritis. Phew. But. Oh, a ‘but’.
He had detected that the retina in one eye had a weakness. He wants to see me again in two weeks and if the weakness is still there, he’ll recommend laser eye surgery. Visions of that scene in ‘Clockwork Orange’ sprang to mind. I clutched my appointment forms and left, telling my mum the news. ‘Oh, they’ll clamp your eye open and inject it before zapping you’, she said. Thanks mum.
Anyway, in my new spirit of positive thinking, I am so, so relieved it’s not optic neuritis or even MS-related and incredibly grateful they’ve picked up on a potential future problem which can be fixed sooner rather than later. How lucky am I? Plus, I’ve just found a whole bag of Bombay Mix in the cupboard. Simple things, eh?