It's been a very interesting two days since finding myself involved in unexpected eye surgery on Tuesday. On Sunday I experienced what I thought at the time was a panic attack, as my left eye blurred and I thought I was hallucinating. It died down on Monday, but then there was this nagging "eclipse" at the bottom left quadrant of my left eye. So on Tuesday I called up my opthamologist, and he told me to come on in.
He examined my eye, sighed, and informed me that the retina had begun to detach from the eyeball. He stood up to go see which surgeon was on call that day, because I was going to need immediate action.
"You're really fortunate because Dr. Peterson is on call today," said Dr. B when he returned. "He's really the best. Let's get you prepped."
It's never good news when you hear that "you'll need an immediate procedure" and I was duly panic-stricken. But I'm a warrior at heart, and have paid plenty visits to the ol' "House of Pain." So I decided to take this one step at a time. The most frightening thought was that the eye would need to be anesthetized, and the way to do that is to stick a needle in your eye.
Actually, it wasn't so bad. My imagination certainly whipped up some horrific imagery, and Dr. Peterson laughed when I mentioned "A Clockwork Orange." "The classic opthamologists' movie," he said. He was gentle, and the injections into the eye were similar to those you get at the dentist's office when you get fillings. Dr. Peterson explained his every move as he made it. "You'll feel pressure now; things may go black for you now," etc. The eye is really quite an amazing organ. The procedure involved injecting gas bubbles into the eye which have been pushing up against the retinal tears, closing them off and re-attaching the retina to the eyeball.
I've been instructed to keep my head tilted at a certain angle over the last two days, which is definitely a trip in itself. I'm going to need a helluva neck rub soon. Also, I can see the bubbles which look to me like a raft of indigo balloons floating around in my eye. I'm told these will eventually disintegrate, but who knows how long that will be?
I'll be "seeing" Dr. P again tomorrow, at which time he'll let me know whether the procedure has been a success.
Meanwhile, let's chalk this up to just one of the many adventures I have - er, um - enjoyed during my lifetime.
