Posted by Holly at September 10th, 2009

Remember how we used to play that stupid game when we were kids? Could we manage better if we couldn’t hear or couldn’t see? Well, my latest medical tribulations make me say I don’t want to lose either one, thank you very much.

Right at the moment I can barely see, which may be a consequence of nothing and just a coincidence; or, a consequence of something. The ophthalmologist told me (quoting a mentor of hers) that it’s idiopathic, which may mean of unknown origin but in this case she said it means I have the pathology and they are the idiots because they can’t figure out why.

It started the Monday after the radioactive iodine pill with a headache. By Tuesday it was a HEADACHE and I was thinking a bullet through the spot of pain in my right eyeball would have been a good thing. By Wednesday, I was losing the ability to focus my eyes. By Thursday, total up and down double vision and the desire to rip out my eyeball. By Friday at 2:45 PM, I was in the ophthalmologist’s office where he calmly said it might be a brain tumor or aneurysm so they had to do an MRI. Okay, deep breath needed. I said I had a full body scan scheduled for Tuesday morning, post-radioactive iodine pill. He said I didn’t understand, he meant the MRI had to happen now. So by 4 PM I was in the big machine listening to crackly classical music to drown out the pounding of the MRI noise worrying about would they get enough information because I wasn’t going to let them inject any contrast dye into my brain – see last post for fears about anaphylactic shock.

And, also, it seems very much as if every time anybody takes out something or puts in something I didn’t arrive on this earth with, something unexpected happens. Well, once it was my baby, so that was definitely okay.

The MRI mercifully ruled out those two awful things. Various possibilities have been floated: myasthenia gravis, diabetes, nothing. I vote for nothing. Whatever the cause, the symptom is palsy of the third ocular nerve and, in addition to the double vision, causes eyelid droop. Now, several years ago, I had the eyelid droop surgically fixed. I inherited that from my dad and insurance declared they would pay for the surgery on both eyes. That was exciting because, for the first time ever, I had peripheral vision. Wow, there was stuff to see on the sides. Now, I have the droop back. It looks, in my refracted sight, perfect….just like a romance comic eye with deep lidding and a great surface for eyeshadow. Maybe I’ll keep it. And have the other one surgically lowered.

Today, not that the vision is improved at all, it feels a smidge better. I can’t even explain that except to say maybe I can pull my eyes back into focus and keep them there for a few seconds, something I couldn’t do yesterday.

Half of me feels as if I am fighting to stay on this earth. Half of me feels totally out of control. Half of me is going on as if there is no problem. I’ve found a work-around: keep one eye closed. The ophthalmologists didn’t have any of the pirate patches but said they had the adhesive ones they give to kids. As soon as I heard that and found out that they have little characters on them, I took those. Left eye is currently covered with hearts. Or, maybe flowers. Not sure. The really weird thing is that I have 20/20 vision in the bad eye and 20/25 in the left eye. Separately, they’re great. Together, double trouble. Rush service on the eyeglasses, which may or may not help while one eye is patched bring me eyeglasses tomorrow I don’t really need, under normal circumstances.

So here I am…hoping to get on a plane on Tuesday to go to Florida and meet my sister so we can go through all of our mom’s things. I started to write that would be a lot of laughs but, actually, I think it will be. My sister is one of the funniest, most cynical people I know and she has a way of looking at the dark side and saying something so totally arrow on the mark true and funny that the only thing you can do is laugh till you cry. Not that the days together won’t involve sentimental tears, they will. We’ll be there for the first night of Rosh Hashonah, too, and we were both raised in the awe of the days of the Jewish New Year. We’re going to try to go to Temple on Friday night. Those halves of me I mentioned up above? A third half is looking forward to touching my Mom’s pieces of paper with her handwriting on them, feeling the insides of her rings worn smooth because they touched her skin more recently than I did, looking at her paintings and photos.

I can’t hear my mother’s voice anymore but I can look at her picture, look at her things. Maybe, if ever I had to choose, I’d rather have my sight.