The world changed for me today.
We started out by wanting to explore a different part of town, so we walked across to 8th and 9th Avenues and started exploring along the 30s. It is amazing how quickly the streetscape changes. Compared to 5th Avenue, the shops along these avenues are a mixture of smoke shops, cheap souvenirs, bars, bottle shops and Mexican food. We are in search of something a little nicer, so decide to cut back to 8th and towards 34th.
It is at that time that I sense something in my eye. It’s like a large drop of oil. It’s in my left eye, my good eye. For those who don’t know, I’ve bene vision impaired since birth. My right eye is useless, it gave up the ghost long ago. So I rely on my left eye. I have reasonable functional vision, which means I can get around, generally without tripping up steps or bumping into things. I can’t read text very well, but can get by with a hard cover book if I squint and hold it about an inch from my left eye. Poor eyesight has brought me a lot, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I’ve toured the world with blind sports, check out my other blog posts.
But today, my left eye is playing up and it’s a bit scary. I continue walking, not saying anything to Mardi at this stage. It may just be something in my eye. We get to the place we have been looking for and grab a table. We eat at Taqueria Diana.
I’m sitting across from Mardi and when I look at her, I can’t see her. I can’t see or read the menu. I tell Mardi, and she looks in my eye. She can’t see anything on the surface and says my eye looks normal. Hmm I wonder what this could be. We both think it may be a visual migraine brought on by all of the stress of the last few weeks. I’ve had a headache now for a week, so quite possibly that is it.
So, we finish lunch and chat about things to do or the afternoon. I want to go to B and H Photo and have a look around so we walk along 34th to get there. It’s a short walk, which isn’t easy with my eye the way it is.
When we arrive I only look around for five minutes, I cant see anything and am getting very worried about my eye. So, we head home and take it easy to see if it settles down. I sit in the dark for a while, panicking.
Mardi does some pre-emptive checking and locates an optometrist about a block away. We call and the good news is she can see me straight away. So we decide, rather than waiting any longer, let’s get a professional to have a look.
We walk to the Clinic, which is located near the Optometry School of New York. It takes less time to walk to the building than it does to find the suite the optometrist is located in. Mardi eventually finds the practice. We sit and fill in a truck load of paperwork. The doctor calls me in after a wait that felt like a lifetime. I’m sure it was really only 20 or so minutes.
She introduces herself, Dr Connie Dong. I explain my situation to her. Mardi fills in some gaps. I’m frank with her about my already crappy eyes, so don’t be alarmed as she will see a lot of out of the ordinary stuff.
She then gets to work. Peering into my eye, taking photos, scans, the whole nine yards. As she is examining me, I hear several tell-tale “hmm’s” and “ah ha’s”. Oh dear.
She then leaves the room for a period of time, I’m guessing looking at results. Maybe its good news, she doesn’t appear to be in a hurry.
She comes back. She sits down. She takes a deep breath.
“Michael. I’ve completed a full examination. Notwithstanding your existing condition, I have good news and bad news.”
I reach out and hold Mardi’s hand.
She continues: “The good news is that I know the best Retinal Surgeon in New York, if not the world. The bad news is, you need him and you need him now. You have suffered a massive tear of your retina, it basically runs the full length of your retinal wall and has fully ruptured, which means it has completely come away from the back of your eye. You may lose all of your sight in your left eye.”
“I’ll call the surgeon’s office and try an get you an appointment tonight.”
Mardi and I sit there like stunned mullets. What had she just said? A surgeon. Tonight. Now. Retinal tear. Permanent visual loss!
Connie comes back into the room, the doctor, a Dr Nissen, can’t see me tonight. But he’s reviewed the scans. I can’t do any more damage. Rest easily tonight and see him first thing in the morning.
We leave the clinic like zombies. What does this mean? Will I lose my sight? Do I need surgery? Is this something that will repair itself overnight? Get worse overnight?
We get back to our hotel and sit in silence for a while. We go to bed, its an early start, Dr Nissen will see me at 8.00am. He located uptown at 77th St and 3rd.
That night was the longest night of my life. I lie awake, trying not to rub my eye, but instinctively wanting to rub the smudge away. The waiting is killing me. I recall a scene form the movie Jaws. Quint is telling the story of the sinking of the Indianapolis, the boat that delivered the bomb to the Enola Gay. The scariest time for him was waiting in the water for the sharks to come before he was rescued. I know how he feels. The sharks were circling me, it wasn’t my legs they were after, it was my eyesight. Will Dr Nissen be able to rescue me? Tomorrow awaits.
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