I'm still reeling from the news I got at my yearly visit to my ophthalmologist on Friday. I usually love my eye exam, especially the part where Dr. Chang asks, "Which is better: this . . . or this?" and I have to decide which lens is clearer. (I've been begging him for years to get new eye charts; I have them memorized so I can no longer tell if I'm reading or just reciting. OFLC3 is my favorite.) I told him a few years ago that I could see fine with my contacts, but when they're out, I'm blind as a bat. I couldn't figure it out, because if my vision had deteriorated, you'd think I'd need a new prescription. But he said no, as you age, you just become more dependent on your glasses or contacts. So now, if I get up during the night, I have to put on glasses just to make sure I'm grabbing the cough medicine and not the nail polish remover.
Anyhow, so we're going along fine, when all of a sudden he pulls out the dreaded 3-D plastic eyeball model. Apparently, the channel between my iris and retina (I think that's what he said—by this point I could hardly breathe and was hearing only every third word or so) is getting shallower, which could eventually obstruct the drainage of fluid from my eye, causing excruciating pressure and loss of vision. Yes, glaucoma. He made a point to say, "You do not have glaucoma" but I sensed a "yet" in there somewhere. He said that if the channels (yes, plural; it's happening to both eyes) narrow off completely, my eyes will turn red and the pain will be unbearable. I asked if that would happen gradually, and he said no (which to me means only one thing: it will happen while I'm driving). If that happens they will have to—are you sitting down?—make a hole in my eye with a laser to drain the fluid. At this point I'm so upset I'm practically oozing down the chair and melting into a puddle on the floor. I did have the wherewithal to ask whether I need to come back sooner than a whole year, and he said no. He said he's been noticing this for a few years, so it's not something that only just started happening.
You'd think I went home and immediately started to do research on this condition (Yikes! I have a condition!), but I was almost paralyzed by the news. So, uncharacteristically, I waited until Saturday to start poking around (on the Web, not in my eye). I didn't find any information on a pre-glaucoma condition, but reading about the actual disease (particularly the description of an "acute closed-angle attack") made me dizzy.
Comments