she's just saying...

More than you wanted to know

The diagnosis:

Glaucoma, with slight but measurable vision loss in the left eye.

The definition:

"Glaucoma refers to a group of diseases that affect the optic nerve... Raised intraocular pressure is a significant risk factor for developing glaucoma. One person may develop nerve damage at a relatively low pressure [that's me], while another person may have high eye pressure for years and yet never develop damage. Untreated glaucoma leads to permanent damage of the optic nerve...which can progress to blindness."

The recommendation:

Reduce the pressure as much as possible. Since laser surgery and multiple medications have not worked well enough, the next step is filtering microsurgery, i.e. trabeculectomy.

The procedure:

During trabeculectomy a piece of tissue in the drainage angle of the eye is removed, creating an opening. The opening is partially covered with a flap of tissue... This new opening allows aqueous humor to drain out of the eye, bypassing the clogged drainage channels of the trabecular meshwork.

The weird diagram:

 

The risks:

Bleeding, infection, swelling, scarring, retinal detachment, a droopy eyelid, double vision, loss of vision or even loss of the eye.

The result:

I'll let you know...

How to prepare for eye surgery

1. Go to Costco.
2. Clean the house.
3. Freeze casseroles.
4. Mow the lawn.
5. Wash the dog.
6. Begin Pinot Grigio detox.
7. Hit the bank, return library books, rent movies.
8. Get a pedicure.
9. Update the iPod.
10. Remove toe ring.
11. Buy pretty panties.
12. Clean the fish tank.
13. Prepare low-vision knitting strategy.

I think I'm ready.

What would be on your list?

Beestung

Clearly, the universe did not want me to go up to Portland.

First I developed a sinus staph infection (a mere 3" away from my eye as the nurse said), then Henry woke up with pinkeye (can't operate with conjunctivitis in the house), and then, just now, I was stung by bees, one spot of which is a half inch from the operation eye, which has reddened and swollen up prettily.

OK, I get it! Bad idea sliding down into the Neighbor X tarpit! But don't you think the bee was a little overkill?? Sheesh.

(For those who didn't know, I was going to stay at his place in Portland (conveniently 5 blocks from the hospital); I stayed there for the pre-op appointment, we're communicating again and...)

Thank the gods, the goddess, Shiva, the heavens, my angels, a Bodhisattva, the universal spirit, whatever. I got the message. Really. I did cancel the flight, even after a (lukewarm) invitation to come up anyway.

When we're weak, the universe supports us and shows us the way. We just have to listen.

 But really, there's no need to send bees.

Awww-gust

I've never really liked August. It's too damn hot, summer is as tired as three-day-old macaroni salad, and all those things you planned hopefully to accomplish aren't done and are mocking you.

My August was supposed to start with invasive eye surgery - fun! However, due to a lurking sinus infection, it's been indefinitely postponed, complete with last minute phone calls, faxes to doctors' offices, canceling airline tickets and general frustration. Not to mention the accompanying sinus infection. Meanwhile, Henry woke up with pinkeye, or eyes. So we're in an upbeat mood this lovely August first.

It's going to be another scorcher here in the (high) desert, so we have to batten down the hatches to keep the house cool. So we begin the slow sticky slide into the school year.

Don't say school!! Henry begs. He has five more weeks of various camps left, so school feels like it's years away. Labor Day being late this year has caused parents to scramble to fill one more week. I've been handing Henry off to whoever drives up, to go to the Fair, the lakes, baseball games and campouts. All things I usually enjoy but don't feel the urge to do right now. Meanwhile, all the Facebook families of the town are having wonderful laugh-filled, joyous, adventuresome summers (and even have time to post their photos and updates).

Hmmm. Mood getting ugly. I think H and I are going to hit the movies and stay out of the heat.

Reading with your ears

I've been told that after my eye surgery, I can't read for at least a week. (I don't really get this because I'm just getting one eye done, so why can't I read with the other eye?) The prospect of not being able to read is freaking me out. Does that mean I can't knit either? What the heck am I going to do -- listen to talk radio?

So I'm exploring audiobooks again. I've read listened experienced a few audiobooks over the last couple years, as it solves the perennial problem that I can't knit and read at the same time. (I do know of people who claim they can, but I'm skeptical of the quality of either activity.) Of the eight or so books I've downloaded, I've really enjoyed three and never got beyond the first hour of the others. My problems with them have been:
1. annoying narrator
2. losing track of the story
3. falling asleep
None of which is a problem for me with actual reading. But I liked a few, so I'm trying to figure out what it was about them that worked and look for similar styles.

I usually download them from audible.com which has thousands of titles of all genres, including a lot of soft-core you-know-what, more than one might expect. (I can't type the word in my blog or I'll get interesting spam.) They can be pricey, about as much as a hardcover bestseller, so you have to look for the bargains and guaranteed winners. The library offers downloads, but it's pretty cumbersome and incompatible with iPods, so that's not very useful.

My biggest problem with audiobooks is that I'm an extremely fast reader. (I'm not saying this out of pride, but fact. It's actually not always great, as I'll buy a book while waiting for a flight and finish it before I land. It really ups the cost of buying books if you finish them in one sitting.) So audiobooks drag considerably versus my own reading speed. I just found that my iPod has a "faster" option which does help, even if the narrator sounds a little funny.

There's some controversy (of course) about whether hearing a book is equal to reading it. It's an interesting issue: just because we've traditionally read words on paper, does that make listening less intellectually pure? After all, civilization started with the verbal tradition of stories being told around the campfire, before they figured out how to make paper and get a global publicity tour for a multi-book deal. People rhapsodize about the heft of the book and the smell of the paper, but the speed I read and the poor quality of the used books I buy makes that kind of moot.

So I'm on the quest for some good audiobooks. If you have any favorites, let me know. Nothing that'll make me cry, and no self-help, please -- this is as good as I get.

Torn cheese is feeling torn...

the long, dreary path to eye surgery

[If you weren't aware, I'm scheduled for trabeculectomy surgery for glaucoma in August. This is one of a series of posts about it. Not that it's that interesting, but it's good blog fodder.]

I started this journey at my local ophthalmologist's office. Bonus: I've now learned to spell ophthalmologist - there's a hidden H and L in there that can trip you up.

Jason (if a doctor is young enough to be my kid, I get to call him by his first name) is a great guy - funny, accessible, smart, and caring. (Plus, it turns out we both went to Middlebury College, a small liberal-arts school in Vermont. Odd coincidence. Of course, he says I was there the same time as his uncle, smart-ass whipper-snapper that he is.)

But anyway. Jason recommended I go up to Portland for surgery by one of the country's leading docs for this procedure. He (Jason) does this surgery, but says that for a patient as *YOUNG* as myself, he'd rather I get the best. He'll manage the extensive follow-up on the surgery here in Bend. I'm going with his recommendation, so had to first go to Portland for the pre-assessment.

The Devers Eye Institute is part of the Legacy Good Samaritan Hospital system - confusing but impressive. I went up a few weeks ago, and four hours later, after they poked and prodded and measured and photographed and nearly blinded me it was agreed I should have the surgery.

But not so fast. First I'll have to get a complete medical here, including EKG, then go back up to Portland for the pre-surgery exam. I thought that's what I was doing there the first time, but I guess not. Following that, I'll fly up Sunday Aug. 2 for the procedure scheduled for Monday morning. I have to stay overnight for a follow-up exam on Tuesday, then back home. They want me to return again that Friday, but I'm going to push to have Jason do that exam here.

I've been told that I won't be able to bend down (head below chest) for four weeks afterward. This restriction has really struck me for some reason. I'm now practicing feeding the cats while deep-squatting, which I'm hoping will at least tighten up the thighs a bit.

Stay tuned for more fascinating detail to come.

Pressure-eyes'd

eyeball sundae

If you've been reading for awhile, you may remember that I was diagnosed with glaucoma a couple of years ago.  No reason, no cause, no family history - seemingly a random roll of the dice. 

It is progressing, so today I met with a new doc at Devers Eye Institute in Portland who recommended I have surgery in July to alleviate the pressure in my left eye. It's a nasty surgery with a catchy name: trabeculectomy. I mistakenly called it up on YouTube and almost fainted watching it. 'Nuff said there.

Given that I need to maintain vision for another 40+ years, they've decided to be pretty aggressive about it all. (I was the youngest patient in the waiting room by about 20 years. About the only pleasure involved in having glaucoma is that the doctors keep emphasizing how young I am. Of course, they're all about 15 years old, so what do they know?) It pretty much means the end of wearing contacts, which in my vanity was the main obstacle I had to accept. I also won't be able to scuba dive again, but since I've logged over 500 dives in my career I think I'm good there. 

I'll faithfully blog from the operating table when it comes around, 'cause I know you want to follow every gory detail. Meanwhile, go get your pressures checked. I had no symptoms, no vision loss, no pain - if they hadn't caught it by chance, I'd be blind in about 15-20 years. 

Tonight I'm staying with friends, drinking wine and relaxing. This weekend I'm attending SpecFest and spending mad money on trendy peepers.

Four(teen) Eyes

My mother used to say that it was a good thing that I had such perfect teeth, because my eyesight sucked. (No, of course she didn't say "suck").  My siblings and I all had glasses from an early age. I remember my first pair: they were pink with silvery sparkles. I loved them. Then I got sophisticated and moved up to the blue ones with sparkles. Finally in college I got contacts, and my social life picked up immediately.

Above is my eyewear wardrobe. Every day I get to mix and match.
1. From the front: stylish no-line sunglasses with reader lenses (for reading by the pool while wearing contacts).
2. My "regular" sport sunglasses (to wear with contacts)
3. Prescription sunglasses - kind of dorky because I had some old bifocals tinted, but they work.
4. My reading glasses that I wear OVER my contacts*
5. My prescription glasses
6. My contacts

*Because I'm extremely nearsighted while at the same time losing my ability to focus closely, my contacts correct for distance and I have to wear reading glasses to see the computer or anything else within four feet.

Sometimes I think I should give it all up and just wear glasses. But putting aside my fragile vanity, I see much better with contacts.

Myopia + presbyopia + astigmatism + glaucoma. I think I'd choose cavities.

loose ends

Time to tie up a few:

1.Yes, Henry does not like the retainers. He says he'd rather have the braces again, and even offered to pay for them himself. We're trying them (actually, he's trying them) a few hours at a time. And they have been lost twice in the two days we've had them. Unfortunately, they're clear and small and easily overlooked.

2. I think I've solved the catnip situation. If you can't cage the cats, cage the catnip.  They hang around it alot but haven't tried to break in yet. I think the smell alone drives them crazy - they don't have to ingest it. Does anybody know?

The owner of Chow (the out-of-coffee cafe, in case you didn't guess) sent me a lovely email apologizing for our experience. He said they weren't out of coffee - it was a server misunderstanding. That's good to know - I'm definitely trying it again.

3. Our knitting group may have found a home - Makahna's Cafe on Galveston. Great spot! Meets all our criteria (natural light, not too noisy, comfortable space, parking, beer and wine). The owner, Steve, kept it open just for us, which was wonderful. He's working on staying open evenings more. Check it out!

4. I did buy an electric mower and love it.

5. The laser treatments I had to control my glaucoma were very successful. My interocular (great word) pressures are way down, and should stay that way for a few years, hopefully.

tunnel vision

Hello. My name is Melissa, and I have glaucoma.

I always thought really old people got glaucoma, but there you have it. I was diagnosed several years ago, with no symptoms and normal eye pressures at the time. Two different doctors detected some optic nerve damage during my routine eye exams (2nd opinions: good). No one else in my family history has had it, and there's no identifiable cause, but it's been progressing steadily over the last several years.

Thankfully, I have no loss of vision or other symptoms yet. But I've been on a number of different eye drops that have not been able to control my increasing eye pressure, and today I had the first of several laser procedures in an attempt to slow the progress. Basically, they burned little holes in my right eye to reduce the pressure. In a few weeks I go back for treatment of the other eye.

I find it hard to admit publicly -- it just sounds so weird and how do you put it again old. But if I can get it, so can you, so go get your eyes checked. It's a 2-minute, painless test that could keep you from going blind. Is that motivation enough?

End of public service announcement. I'm going to go knit.

Labels: glaucoma, pov