An eye day

It's Monday.  As planned, I left home shortly after 8am and got to the Eye Hospital emergency around 9am. I had a long, uphill walk from the bus to the hospital, and was very proud of myself for not being out of breath. That's called 'getting feelings of achievement from small milestones' in my book.

It was quite a long wait before I saw the doctor, David, a skinny little thing with a big brain. He asked all the right questions and asked back to make sure he got right all my strange symptoms. He talked about having to check first for the 'nasties' - like stroke and cancer - just to rule them out, you understand - he said. Sure I understood. But, I was so convinced it's a chemo side-effect that I simply refused to entertain any other possibility.

So, what are the symptoms?

It's a bit unusual, to say the least. When I read, all the letters are slightly blurred and periodically the line splits into two. Not into parallel lines, but a straight line and then an angle.  Very strange. Enter the boss. I think her name was Elena, but am not sure. Very nice, no nonsense woman who knew exactly what she was doing and talked to David as the seasoned educator she probably is. This is a teaching hospital, you see.

Dr Elena explained that the muscle of my left eye is weak and the right one compensates for it. This means that I have something like lazy eyes, but the question is why now at the ripe old age of 69?  She also explained that they have to look for all possibilities, so she ordered: a blood test (for infection); a visit with the orthoptist (to measure my eye movements); a CT-scan (to look for cancer and stroke); an MRI  to check the CT-scan, and a neck ultrasound to check for possible vein blockage in the neck that could affect the eyes. They did almost all the tests, except the MRI and ultrasound. That's why I spent 6 hours of today at the hospital.

And the outcome?

I was most pleased when the doctor who did the CT-scan and did a fabulous job inserting the canula (it didn't hurt at all) for the contrast dye, called me to say that the scan was fine.

Phew, that's a relief. But so what? What can I do to overcome this (hopefully) temporary problem?

I can now tell you that I am the proud owner of a black eyepatch. I look like Lizzie the Pirate or Lizzie the Ancient Warrior.  Add to that the fact that my hair is really beginning to thin out from the chemo and ....  OK, no more of that.
I am trialling the patch as I write this and I have to say that it's a most bizarre sensation, but it seems to work. I change sides periodically. 


When I take the patch off it takes a while for the eyes accommodate to focus on the page, but no double or split lines.

 I can live with that.