Days 15 - 21: "Hi again..."
Ok so I feel like we have moved past calling the recovery time "the aftermath." So this is the after of the aftermath. It's still considered recovery but I wanted a change of post titles.
Here's where I start getting really frustrated. I'm having a really hard time seeing normally and feeling like I can do things as I did before surgery. At this point I was finished the prednisone and was returning to a life with out indigestion. Some of my eye drops were finishing and I was done having to keep my eye dilated 24 hours a day. I was told that my vision would start to come back. Well I will give everyone ONE guess as to what DIDN'T decide to come back.
BINGO.
Each day I woke up hoping I would see more clearly. And each morning I was disappointed. There is nothing medically wrong with the fact that I couldn't see any better. The buckle changes the physical shape of your eye, often requiring a new prescription of lenses. Of course it does!
So here I am. Had a glimmer of hope- the fluid had gone down more and I no longer had to dilate my eyes. Here I thought I would be moving forward when in reality it felt like my feet were stuck in molasses.
We had an AWESOME Christmas tree this year. Our first married Christmas. Here it is:
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| Oooh! Ahhh! |
You wouldn't think this would incite tears, unless they were tears of joy in its utter beauty, right?! Wrong.
I sat there and cried. It hurt to look at the tree when we were decorating it a week prior to this. I started to get so mad at the fact that everything that I SHOULD enjoy doing was just hard and frustrating. I began to resent the holidays. And if you know my husband at all, Christmas is his FAVORITE holiday. This made him so sad. But I was just so frustrated I didn't acknowledge that.
Feeling sorry for myself, I kept dwelling on everything that I felt wasn't fair. Everything that I felt shouldn't be happening. My 25th birthday was coming up. What a gift, right? Surgery and recovery. No one seemed to understand how difficult things were for me to do.
It felt isolating to be dealing with this. When everyone was posting things on facebook about seeing friends, family, going to look at the lights in Hampden (which I wanted to do so badly), I sat there and resented it all.
It was okay to feel this way. At the time I didn't think it was okay to feel that way. But it is. In a mere 3 weeks I was told I could lose my vision. That I had a condition that could make me BLIND. I was thrown into an operating room and adopted a routine of medications and doctor's visits.
I was emailing Charlie once or twice a week with some sort of concern. They all started the same, those emails... "Hi again..." The concerns were valid (and trust me, as a patient dealing with this, you have EVERY right to over-analyze and be hyper-sensitive. This is after all your vision. They can't do eye transplants yet. At least not in this country). But the concerns always ended the same. Nothing was wrong.
So am I just crazy?
No. The biggest thing that would have helped me in all of this and getting to where I am now would have been to know that I wasn't crazy. So to any RD sufferer reading this- you aren't crazy! I promise you that.
On the outside I looked like I was getting better. On the inside, I felt like I was losing every ounce of happiness and hope I had.
Ryan tried so hard to make everything better. But I didn't have the clarity in my vision I wanted and I didn't look the same. My eyes were uneven and to me, ugly.
My typical Thursday appointment arrived and I fasted all day (not by choice but by nerves) and sat in the waiting room. I knew everyone so well by now. Brought them cookies for Christmas, which they all loved.
Advice for patients: Find a doctor you trust. One that you feel you couldn't live without. If it wasn't for such an amazing doc and staff, this would honestly have been impossible. If you don't like your doctor, get a second opinion, third opinion, however many it takes until you find the one!
"Persistant subretinal fluid."
I knew what that meant by now. The fluid level didn't change.
"I want to give it about another 3 weeks or so. But if we don't see a change, I will go in and remove the fluid."
Surgery.
"But that's only if we see no change, so if we see gradual change, even if it's small, we'll keep waiting until it is gone."
Eh, that's not bad. But what if it doesn't go away. What if it doesn't change.
Spoiler alert- it doesn't end up changing! To reiterate though, the buckle surgery is effective 80% of the time. Hey look though- it's less red and swollen, still not even to the other but its getting better. By now the pain is still there, not as bad, but it still happens often.
I would be going to the Ravens game on December 23rd. My 25th birthday. With Ryan, my parents, and my brother who was home on leave from the Navy. Dr. Grodin said as long as I don't get hit in the eye, to have fun. We did have a blast. For a day part of me tried to forget about it. But every time I couldn't see a curb or I had to turn my entire body in the direction of someone talking because my eye hurt to move, I was reminded. When I couldn't see the field very clearly because of the intensity of blur from my left eye, I was reminded. It was an amazing birthday, despite the circumstances though, that's for sure.
It's now that I started to come to terms with a potential second surgery. Living my life outside of my cave was what I wanted. And if having another surgery was going to be what would give me that, I had to face it.
"I want to give it about another 3 weeks or so. But if we don't see a change, I will go in and remove the fluid."
Surgery.
"But that's only if we see no change, so if we see gradual change, even if it's small, we'll keep waiting until it is gone."
Eh, that's not bad. But what if it doesn't go away. What if it doesn't change.
Spoiler alert- it doesn't end up changing! To reiterate though, the buckle surgery is effective 80% of the time. Hey look though- it's less red and swollen, still not even to the other but its getting better. By now the pain is still there, not as bad, but it still happens often.
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| Little Droopy |
I would be going to the Ravens game on December 23rd. My 25th birthday. With Ryan, my parents, and my brother who was home on leave from the Navy. Dr. Grodin said as long as I don't get hit in the eye, to have fun. We did have a blast. For a day part of me tried to forget about it. But every time I couldn't see a curb or I had to turn my entire body in the direction of someone talking because my eye hurt to move, I was reminded. When I couldn't see the field very clearly because of the intensity of blur from my left eye, I was reminded. It was an amazing birthday, despite the circumstances though, that's for sure.
It's now that I started to come to terms with a potential second surgery. Living my life outside of my cave was what I wanted. And if having another surgery was going to be what would give me that, I had to face it.
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