10 days ago, I had a retinal artery ocular occlusion. A stroke of the eye. It a painless obstruction or constriction or embolism of the retinal artery, and after many experiences of ocular migraines I thought my vision loss would come and go as it has so many times.
I have spent many hours being dilated, scanned, numbed, imaged, dyed, poked while bright lights shined in my eyes with my chin resting on cold paper covered metal. My pupil doesn't respond normally. Nobody knows how to chart it. I have begun to giggle when I see the puzzled looks on the technicians faces seeing things they only read about in text books. The only other option is to cry. It isn't common. Visual recovery chance is low. I was told by two ophthalmologists that I would likely never regain complete vision in my right eye and there were no treatment options available for restoration. Tears fill my eyes every morning when the school bus alarm goes off, I open them, and I realize nothing has changed.
Guess what? Tonight when Scott was driving I closed my good eye. I saw headlights coming down the road. Sure. They were only like pin points compared to what one normally sees. But I could see them. I am going to beat all the odds and see faces and trees again out of my right eye.
Next week, my eye gets a break from the exams and I the rest of my body will be subject of evaluation. Retinal artery occlusion is a harbinger for other systemic diseases. Most people are almost twice my age when this occurs. Even then it is rare. There is a reason, and they will aggressively start trying to find it. That scares me more that 100 ophthalmologists telling me that my partial loss of vision from one eye is permanent.
Scott and I need to find a new excuse to have lunch together. I have to admit, that has been a sunshine in all the rain.
Lunch dates in medical facilities only count as a date if he smuggles a bottle of wine for you.
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