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Beautiful lawn display |
I took this picture while on my regular Saturday morning walk with my friend Steve. We met at the coffee shop, I did the Wordle (he had already done it) and we then solved the Connections puzzle together. And then we walked to Fairhaven along the Boulevard Park walkway. I felt so much better after we spent time together, even though when I climbed into bed Friday night, I didn't know how I might be feeling about doing much of anything on Saturday.
I saw the retina specialist Friday afternoon, which took quite a bit of time, mostly waiting in different rooms to have my eyes dilated again, pictures of my retinas taken, and waiting to see the doctor. This is the same doctor I saw a few years ago, who told me there was no reason to keep seeing him, as there was nothing they could do to slow my geographic atrophy caused by macular degeneration. Last year, a new treatment became available, and my eye doctor suggested I see him again.
Of course the first thing I did was go online to research these treatments and learned that they are intra-ocular injections. That means getting a needle stuck in your eyeball, numerous times over the months to come. If I'm lucky, that is.
Finally I got to spend some time with Dr Subong to discuss my situation. I asked him which of the two treatments he might use, and he said he uses the one that has been around longer, almost a year now. I asked if he would give me a shot in my good eye, the left one, so that the progression might slow right away. But he said no, he would be giving me my first injection in the right eye, because if I end up being allergic or having problems, there would be less trauma. He said I could lose the eye in a worst-case scenario. I reluctantly agreed that he was right, and then the procedure began, first by numbing the eye with both drops and a gel. Then they came in a short time later and did the same thing all over again. By the time they did that, I only felt the coolness on my eyelids, no sensation in the eye at all.
Then came the injection itself. The doctor used his fingers and a q-tip to hold my eye open, while he injected the stuff. It's very thick and viscous and took about ten seconds for the entire injection. Once he finished, he asked me to open my eye and tell him what I saw: nothing! Dark black nothingness. He said he would have to "release the pressure," but before he got going, I began to see some light, and then gradually my vision, such as it is in that eye, returned. The eye had been treated with several antibiotic creams prior to the injection, and the assistant began to flush my eye with warm soothing water. My eye did not feel right, but then again, I had just had viscous liquid inserted in it! It wasn't fun but necessary and not as bad as I feared.
I was so glad that my guy was with me through it all, though he was in the waiting room until I was done, and then he drove me home. Now I am glad that the doctor started with the bad eye and left my functioning eye alone for now. I did ask him how long he thought my good eye was likely to continue to let me see central vision. He looked at the pictures carefully and said, "maybe a year, or a little more." So even though I am not at all happy about having to go through this, I will do what I can to keep some central vision. Once it's gone, like it already is in my right eye, there is no getting it back. So I am hoping that this procedure will give me more time to read and write.
Dr Subong said that each injection seems to delay the progression by about 20%, and that they seem to be cumulative in their effect on the atrophy. Of course, this is speculative, because everyone is different and responds differently. I am happy to say that I don't seem to have become one of those unlucky ones who are allergic or react negatively to it. The white part of my eye is filled with red and is swollen out, but there is no pain or discomfort, other than a slight ache in the eye, as if I had just finished a marathon crying jag.
If and when the progression becomes complete, I will no longer be able to see anything with my central (focal) vision. I will still have all my peripheral vision, but will no longer be able to continue with the activities I have grown to rely on, and this Sunday blog post will stop. I will still be able to hear podcasts and "read" the news the same way as any legally blind person does. If I am still able to see because of these injections, even just for a few more years, I will be very grateful.
So, that is a warning to all my visual friends, who will still be there but I will not be able to "talk" with you like I am doing right now. When I thought of how I would come to stop blogging, this outcome never occurred to me. Blindness and relying even more on my ears is definitely in my future, if I live that long. I can still type, but I cannot find or fix any typos or read what I have written once that comes to pass.
Everything has its wonders, even darkness and silence, and I learn, whatever state I may be in, therein to be content. —Helen Keller
I am not the first, nor will I be the last, to walk this path. I am still in the throes of grief and have a bit of melancholy when I think of where I am headed, but I trust that my inherent optimism will eventually prevail. Being able to be physical becomes even more important to me. I can always walk in the woods, even if I have to take a bus to get there, even if I cannot see the leaves on the trees, I can still hear the abundant birdsong of the feathered denizens that live among them.
When I think of my blessings, I sometimes forget to include the ability I still have to ponder and reason, and need to give thanks for my intellect, which still seems to be intact. It's almost like a sixth sense, and since it's ubiquitous, I forget to be grateful for its continued presence in my life. That, and my sweet partner who might soon augment my eyes as well, give me hope for the future.
With that, dear friends, I look forward to the rest of my day. My friend John will soon come to take me to breakfast, and afterwards I will be watching the torrential rain we are expecting for the next couple of days from the warmth and comfort of my home. I might even decide to walk in it, who knows? It's not that I need any more adventure in my life, but I will rejoice in being able to, if I choose.
I hope that you will have a wonderful week ahead, and that you will not forget to look around you for the blessings that surround you. I will certainly being doing just that. And I give thanks for you. Be well until we meet again next week.
18 comments:
Oh Djan I’m so sorry to read this while at the same time grateful to you for teaching me to appreciate my ability to do so.
You have always set me thinking and reflecting over the years I’ll continue to hope for a.better outcome for you, but please know that though we’ve never met, you’ve had an impact on my life.
DJan,
I’ve enjoyed following your life journey over the last decade or so reading Eye every Sunday. I’ve admired your ability to put this whole element of aging into perspective for all of us out here. Today’s post leaves me feeling sad, and yet hopeful that your new treatment will successfully extend your vision for a good while longer. It’s hard for me to imagine a Sunday without Eye. I’m wishing the best for you.
John
I am sure this is traumatic for you. It would be so for all of us. There is such a thing as voice recognition software for both reading and writing, so all may not be lost, at least with regards to blogging etc. Fingers crossed.
So much to consider...and you are definitely one of the people I've found inspiration from each Sunday morning. So a big dose of gratitude is sent your way. Your good eye sounds like it might give you a year or more of sightedness before central vision is faded. And maybe the shots in the other eye will help it stay at the present condition, or better. My friend who has been declared legally blind gets shots in his better eye, and can walk around with a cane, even can help us frail women move the chairs after exercise class. More and more friends have Macular Degeneration (I think of two more off hand) and seem to switch their energies into areas that are available to them. From my difficulty writing, (essential tremor) I've learned how to dictate many of my emails and texts. It isn't available yet here on blogger though!
So very sorry to hear that. My mom said the same thing about the shots in the eye--that they were not fun but not nearly as bad as she had expected. I do hope the injections can delay the progression for many years.
Not the change in life anyone wants, for sure. In the future if you have a walking buddy who would walk beside you...both guide and good company...wouldn't that be fantastic. You have your mind and curiosity and zest for life. *love and hugs*
DJan, I'm so very sorry for what you are going through, but at the same time I very much admire your courage and perseverance and grace under pressure. Wouldn't it be wonderful if those injections could extend your sight for some years. You are in my sincerest thoughts and I am keeping my fingers crossed.
Djan, I'm glad you posted what happened with your retina specialist. Sounds awful, but good to hear that it wasn't as bad as you feared. I do think (and hope) that if and when the time comes, you will be able to 'talk' your blogs and they will be turned into text... (if blogger doesn't have that ability, I'm sure some sites must) and also I can see you having a companion hiker to go with you on some hikes so that you won't have to give up this pleasure. That's my wish anyway...
DJan, thank you for sharing the details of your Retina Specialist visit and your first treatment. Many of us may be yet to face this going blind business. I hate it that you will be going blind, but it seems like the knowing and the always self monitoring the gradual progress of deterioration must be a kind of torture.
You will handle it, but I'm sorry that you have to.
Dear friend, I am sorry that you are going through this - and so glad that a treatment has been found. Thank you for sharing this with us - and for yet another inspirational and thought provoking post. Oceans of caring are flowing your way.
My heart goes out to you. I hope the shot(s) will give you a lot longer than is estimated. Sending hugs your way.
Oops didn’t mean to post as anonymous, now I can’t delete my comment. Oh well, but the message is the same. Hugs to you
Thank you for sharing your story. Sending hugs and a little excited that some good treatment is on the horizon. May it be better than expected.
My friend, I'm praying very hard that this treatment will hold off the vision deterioration for quite some time.
Sending much love.
Your post today is a downer. You are doing the right thing by getting treatments. A friend , Walter , has macular. He walks by my place to pick up groceries. He takes the bus downtown and on an individual basis helps homeless. He doesn't have people to assist him. I admire him for his independence under challenging circumstances.
Dreadful! I can't imagine what you are going through. It's a good thing that moat of your life is over, and you many wonderful memories. You are not just a young kid with a bleak future.
I am so glad to hear that something can be done to slow down the progression. I am sure it is not easy news for you, but one day at a time is a good place to start, do what you can do and enjoy everyday! You have some great guys in your life, Smart Guy, John and Steve...they will help you along and your blog readers will cheer you on! Thank goodness you had no bad reactions to the injection! I know that a sunny outlook is not possible some days:(
How scary and disappointing, the situation with your eyes. But you are a resourceful woman and I'm pretty sure you will find other ways to make your way in the world. And I'm betting you find new tools to use to continue your blog, if that is important to you. My best thoughts!
This process must be daunting. I'm glad to hear there is something to slow down MD. I'm really hoping for the best for you.
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