Wednesday, August 10, 2022

Back To The Eye Surgeon, Back To Belladonna

      Atropine, actually, or whatever else is in modern eye-dilating drops.  They hit me hard and I know it.  So I was ready for the follow-up appointment with Dr. Moorthy, the super-competent eye surgeon: I had a wide-brimmed hat, my regular clip-on sunglasses, a big pair of over-the-eyeglasses sunglasses with side shields -- and, most important of all, Tam to do the driving.

      The eye exam went well.  The floaters have declined, the really big one that was probably the result of a small hemorrhage when the vitreous humor came loose* has faded to almost nothing, and things are looking much better.

      It was when they sent me down the hall to check out that I realized I wasn't doing well otherwise.  I was a little confused, the light (dim LEDs) was super-intense, and which set of double doors was it?  I came to a stop, fumbled out my sunglasses, and clipped them on.  Better. I found the door, waited my turn and checked out.  As Tam and I headed to the lobby, she took my car key, I got my hat on, extra sunglasses on, opened the outside doors and--

      Staggered into a frickin' wall of light.  I squinted and navigated to the car.  I needed to text my boss, and when I took my phone out, all the colors on the screen were super-saturated, brighter than I had ever seen.  And off, somehow.  A glance out the window showed trees, grass, houses and passing cars were the same way.  I dictated my text and stopped looking.

      Tam stopped at a drive-through on the way home so I could get a snack.  I dug my battered old red pocketbook (think "giant wallet," guys) to pay and when sunlight hit it, the thing was too bright to look at.  When we got home, Tam took off on her bicycle to have a late lunch and write.  I went inside, closed all the curtains and blinds and had my snack in the screaming bright twilight.  Everything was too flat, too bright, not enough contrast and it all looked wrong.  Like wrong-end of a telescope wrong, like a cardboard-set copy wrong.  I gave up and laid down in my room with all the lights off and a stray crack of sunlight at the side of the curtain going off like a fanfare of trumpets as I rapidly fell asleep.

      Finally woke up a bit shy of 8:00 p.m., did some cat-care stuff and I'm having a very light supper before going back to bed.  I have got a Ph.D.-level headache right now, and me a college dropout.  My pupils are still a little big, but I can at least see my irises.
* I'm not laughing.


Cop Car said...

Sleep: The great restorer. Too bad you can't post a video of your ocular fireworks to share.

Lin Barker said...

Totally feel for you. Had cataract and glaucoma surgery on both eyes (not the same time) and had the same problem.


Comrade Misfit said...

That sounds like no fun. What Cop Car said.

RandyGC said...

I totally empathize. Had my eyes dilated for the first time for my first flight physical in college.

Fortunately the ROTC Cadre were doing the driving back and I was able to curl up in the back seat with my head buried in the corner and eyes closed for the 4 hour drive on I-80 on a clear, bright sunny April day.

Some of my dorm mates asked if I had finally joined the stoners as I was still wearing sunglasses at 11PM that evening.

Hope you feel better soon

Bob said...

Apropos of nothing, in my youth in the Navy, we carried atropine syringes in our nuclear defense kits, for quick, emergency injection if we were attacked by nerve gas. The universal, instant acting, antidote.