Just When One Thought it’s Safe to Go Into the Water

Why, oh why, can’t it go smooth ? The procedures were fine. The last weeks were good, I saw an improvement, all went well. Over the last week, since the last examination, I felt that my vision became a little bit blurry. But nothing fearsome. Today my ophthalmologist took not out the laser gun, but she had their minions take photographs etc. of the inner workings of my eyes. And yes, there is something wrong. A important part of the backgrounds of both eyes feels stressed, the cells react with the emplacement of water, what leads to a thickening of some skin layer, what leads to blurry vision. The whole thing has a name, but I forgot. She said that from all her patients this happens to less than ten a year. (Earlier I had asked a nurse how many patients they have with the same illness like mine, and she said it is pretty common, they have up to thirty a day. If this is true, and if it is true that they have less than ten with this kind of complication through the year, I won the lottery. It was rigged by some god specialised in dirty tricks, maybe Loki.)
No driving this month, perhaps even not in February. The idea was, either today, or at a planned next date in early February, to measure new glasses, because then – as experience has it – all should have “settled in”, the new lenses would have found their place, the process of healing would have run its “normal” course. But this is obsolete now. I was given a new sick note until mid-February.
She said this takes time. There are pills, and drops. And the mention of injections, if all other provisions fail. The idea to have … forgetaboutit ! What I absolutely do not like is the mention of “temporary or permanent loss of vision” in the description of this “syndrom”, nothing’s easy, seemingly. Excuse me now, I’m on my way to the pharmacy.

8 thoughts on “Just When One Thought it’s Safe to Go Into the Water

  1. Oh shit on it. So sorry to read that you’ve had the complications. I reckon we all win a personal lottery, but not necessarily a fun one. I hope it comes right for you – soon.

  2. I hope that time, along with the pills and the drops, will remedy this situation. You’ll also need more music to get you through this, and somehow, find humour wherever and whenever you can.

  3. I am not too familiar with the agreed expressions, dear MsScarlet, but I’d guess “Sod it !” is suitable for this.
    After all the image of a lottery is fitting for our genetical, and bio-chemical set-up. A German blogger who described his fight with cancer wrote as first sentence something like “Welcome to the lottery”, if I remember it right.

    And sunglasses ! I need sunglasses, dearest Mistress ! Humour can be found anywhere, even in a mirror, if it is full length.

    Thank You both.
    I do not want to be a drama queen, but this morning kind of blemished my whim a bit. Onwards & upwards, as Z once said.

  4. I’m sorry, Mago! I hope the time and drops will be enough. I don’t know why that sounds so common to her, it was not mentioned to me here that there would be any such risk. I would think German doctors would be as good if not better than American doctors, but maybe because I was insanely young to have such a problem in the first place that risk was even less likely for me and so not mentioned.

    I hope it all works out as well as it can. Even with my correction I still wear glasses, but like you, they are a lot lighter than my old heavier ones. Take care, My Friend!

  5. Sod it, indeed.
    But, my friend, I must take issue with you on there being humour in a full-length mirror. Not in my house! Oh dear me, no! These days, it’s more and more like one of those horror mirrors we used to laugh at in fair grounds.
    But look for the laughter I always say.

  6. Oh man, that just sucks. I am so sorry you won *that* lottery, but hopefully the medications will get your eyes to heal up properly. I have my fingers and toes crossed for you, Mago!

  7. I am sorry Melanie, I may not have been clear in what I said. With my illness, the “Grey Star”, they have tons of patient. Even if “thirty a day” (what the nurse said) is perhaps a bit too many, even if there are “only” ten a day that would count up to two hundred a month, well over two thousand patients a year. When less than ten have the complications, that stupid syndrome, over the year, it is a fraction in the pro-mille area. Even if she would have mentioned it, it would have not changed the course of events, because there was no alternative than a procedure on my right eye.
    Believe me, German doctors are not better or worse than their American colleagues, it is just something that happens, nothing else.

    Oh the magic mirrors, one makes you tall, one makes you small – or was this the job of the pills ? I forgot, sorry DInahmow.

    De-cross fingers & toes now please, dear Ponita, that must be very uncomfortable. A nice gesture nevertheless, and I thank you for it !

    Exactly my reaction too, dear Mira !

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