Macular Degeneration: the Diagnosis
This is the first in a series of stories about why I want to include recipes that are known to help eyesight. Grab a handful of nuts or a tossed salad and enjoy while reading this. They both could prevent you from having a similar experience.
An overnight sensation the eye beheld It happened overnight. Not that it’s common to come on that quickly, the experts said. Yes, it can come on quickly, but not necessarily as quickly as I experienced.
I woke up in the morning and everything looked blurry. I looked out the window and everything was fuzzy and grey. I thought it was raining and the drops were cascading down the window. But it was sunny. I got out of bed and walked around, going about my usual morning activities. All of a sudden, it was gone. An hour or so later, I got in the car to drive to church. There it was again.
At first, I blamed it on the mask I have to wear through Covid. But that wouldn’t explain waking it up with it, I reasoned. But, I argued back to myself, sometimes the mask creeps up and irritates the bottom of my eye. Maybe it’s a slight abrasion. Maybe the sun reflects over the mask and that did something. There must be some reason that something all of a sudden happened to my perfectly fine blue eyes.
When it continued coming and going for another 24 hours, I decided no matter what it was, it needed professional care. These are my eyes, the only pair I’ll ever get. And I use them for everything. Don’t take chances, I said to myself.
So I called an ophthalmologist to make an appointment. Cursed Covid was doing me in again. The earliest I could get in was six weeks away. I took the appointment and waited. Over the next six weeks, I reasoned with myself that it had to be the mask. Or I chalked it up to being tired, to reading for too long a period, to scrutinizing too much fine print . Driving, I decided the windshield was dirty. When it came on suddenly as I was driving east to church, I blamed it on the rising sun being too bright. These were by no means ways I was trying to escape the truth. I really thought I was thinking out every possibility. I was healthy, 83 years old, never wore glasses, always did close work, then all of a sudden, I find myself with a mask on a good part of the day and blurry vision.
I eagerly kept my appointment and was delighted with the professionalism of the office from the second I had my temperature taken, through the friendliness of the technicians who sat me before those robot looking eye machines and checked off things on their computer while looking in from the other side. I was happy with the optometrist who was the next to greet me, apologized for not shaking hands, and sat down in front of the computer that had all the reports the technicians had made.
My first surprise was when he looked at me and said, “why did you wait so long?” Why did I wait so long? I’m the one who called for an appointment less than 48 hours after I noticed something was happening. THEY were the ones who said I couldn’t get in for six weeks. Besides, it was a nuisance, I explained, but it was the same today as it was six weeks ago.
A fast speaking man, the doctor then looked at my eyes and launched into a long discussion. Well, you have macular degeneration, he said, and we have a procedure that will arrest it. Another physician the ophthalmologist will take care of it, you’ll get an injection once a month, it will be in a different office, etc. etc. etc.
My head was spinning and I didn’t catch a word he said after Macular Degeneration! Because the doctor was so thorough, so eager to answer any of my questions, I forced myself to pay attention and learn more. There is something the ophthalmologist could do, he reasoned. It would include an injection in my eye! (Another statement that made my mind go blank! I had heard him say injection earlier but didn’t realize it was going to be directly into my eye!) But it could help.
He suggested I make an appointment and I was eager to follow that advice. The appointment was set up for December, another three weeks away. I still chalked it up to how pleasant and nice everyone was when the doctor heard the appointment date, came out and asked the clerk if she couldn’t make it any sooner. She could. The appointment was set up for Nov. 25. The day before Thanksgiving. Thanks, I murmured. I will have a lot to be thankful for.
But the next day, when I researched macular degeneration, learned more, and raised a lot of questions within myself, I called the office. Just in case. Might there be a cancellation earlier than Nov. 25 that I could keep, I asked. They researched, they checked, they apologized. There was nothing earlier. But keep trying, they advised.
I didn’t have to. The day after that, they e-mailed me. Could I come in the very next day? I had my choice of three different times, at three different locations. Could I make one of them? Could I make it? I couldn’t wait. Yes, I’ll be there, tomorrow at 1:15 at the Holmdel office.
My reasoning? If the day before there were no appointments, and then all of a sudden there were three, I wasn’t the only one getting more concerned about this new thing, macular degeneration, which was affecting my eyes!
