Like Needles in the Eye

I promised I would update following my eye surgery, and like a true late-diagnosed adult with ADHD, it has taken me 20 days to do so. I could make excuses, like "Oh it's so hard to see with one eye" or "I had to be face down for a week," but let's be real - I thought about it multiple times and told myself I'd do it later. Welcome to later.

Generally, a retinal detachment requires surgery ASAP. Unfortunately, ASAP has different meanings when it's during Thanksgiving. I saw the retina doctor (more on him in a moment) on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. I left the appointment after being told I would receive a call from the surgical coordinator to schedule a time. Later that afternoon, the coordinator called and told me I was going to be scheduled for Monday, December 1. Almost an entire week away. By this point, I couldn't drive because my left eye basically had no usable field of vision. As much as I appreciate the 30% I could still see, unfortunately for myself, the ceiling and top two feet of most walls don't provide much in the way of interest or importance, so yeah, practically blind.

I called my parents to let them know that their eldest child was malfunctioning and needed to go in for repairs. I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to function for a week having to lay on my stomach for 40 minutes of every hour, but my mom immediately booked a ticket to come care for her invalid 43-year-old daughter. And for anyone wondering, I am the reason that I don't want kids. I sure as hell don't want to come take care of my 40-something across the country when I'm 77 years old. That's just not a commitment I'm down for. And you don't even want to know when I stopped asking them for money.

As though the gods of middle age had decided a detached retina in your 40s was enough punishment for the year, they rewarded me with perhaps the most qualified doctor in the entire state. Dr. Nguyen was slightly younger than me, and went to Harvard undergrad, Columbia medical school, Stanford residency, and a fellowship at Harvard (because they couldn't get enough of him, apparently). If someone was going to be sticking needles into my eyeballs, someone with that resume was definitely at the top of my list. I can practically see his parents bragging about him to everyone they meet.

So my mom arrived on Saturday after Thanksgiving, and we went to the grocery store and stocked up on everything we might need for a week of being shut-ins. On Monday at 11am, we Ubered to the hospital one mile from my apartment for me to get my bionic eye. I had no idea what to expect - I just knew that a) I would not be fully asleep during the procedure and b) they would be sticking actual needles in my eyeball. These two concepts were never meant to be experienced simultaneously.

I did explain to the anesthesiologist that I'm rather squeamish, and while I appreciated that I wouldn't actually feel anything that was happening while I was in my "twilight sleep," I needed to be absolutely blitzed out of my mind in order to not freak out about what was happening and possibly vomit all over myself during surgery. I'm happy to report that he took my request seriously.

I was fully awake when they wheeled me into the operating room, which is not a place I care to see outside of my occasional medical k-dramas. They gave me a warmed blanket, which was lovely, and then the anesthesiologist told me he was starting my medicine. With my wonky eye, I clearly couldn't see what they were doing, but I could hear Dr. Nguyen and the nurse talking. There were some fun light effects, and weirdly enough I could kind of see some movement inside my eye, but I was high as balls and remember thinking it was kind of like a snow globe. It honestly felt like it took 15 minutes (when I was coming out of my drug haze, I did ask how long it took, and the response was 40 minutes). Despite my intoxication, I can confidently report that no one said "oops" or "oh no" at any point in surgery.

They taped a big eye patch on my face, wheeled me back out, and I was done. About 20 minutes later, I was getting dressed and my mom was walking me out. I have the pain tolerance of a 3-year-old, and I can tell you I didn't have an ounce of pain. Not that day, not the next. It was pretty insane, especially considering the "white" of my eye was solid red for a good week. I had a mild headache occasionally that felt just like I had been straining my eyes for too long, and it went away with one dose of Tylenol.

Fear not, for I am not without complaints. For starters, I had to be face down for a week so that the gas bubble they put inside my eye would be in the right spot to hold my retina in place as it healed. Laying down sounds great, except for one problem - I'm a back sleeper. I can't lay on my stomach for more than 15 minutes at any given time without being wildly uncomfortable. I was given a foam pillow with a hole cut for my eyes and mouth, and my mom and I fashioned a makeshift holder for it so I could put my tablet on the ground and watch streaming with my one good eye. It was...not great. Let's just say that night was some of the worst sleep I've had in an actual bed when I wasn't physically ill. I mentioned more than once that I should've just been put in a medically induced coma for a week so I could lay on my stomach without being uncomfortable or bored.

So the next week was me laying on my stomach uncomfortably while my mom cooked me food. I could either watch streaming, listen to audiobooks, or play briefly on my phone. I didn't step foot outside my apartment for at least three days other than the follow up visit the day after surgery. The gas bubble was large and clearly visible in my left eye, but the difference was that I could see things through it as opposed to the black spot that blocked out all light prior to surgery. Each day it would get a little smaller, and by my 1 week checkup, it was about the size of an M&M in my vision. Finally, a couple of days after my mom left, the bubble completely disappeared.

Currently I'm 21 days post surgery and I've been driving for a little over a week (yay, depth perception!). My left eye still hasn't "settled," so everything looks like it's in a funhouse mirror - kind of pinched in center and a little wobbly. Driving in the daytime is fine now, but I still can't drive at night because my left eye turns all the various lights into a pretty sweet rave which, when I'm not operating heavy machinery, is slightly entertaining at least.

My depth perception is still kind of shit, and I'm reminded daily when I do things like miss a cup I'm trying to pour into, or spilling a container of food onto myself as I'm trying to put it in the microwave because I misjudged how high I needed to lift it by about 1/2 inch. So that's been fun. I also feel more anxious in public because I feel like I'm not as aware of my surroundings and I'm constantly feeling like I'm too close to this person or that car or that entire shelf full of breakable things. This could also be because places are super busy during the holidays, but still.

Miraculously this happened at just the right time, because if it happened any later, I would've had to cancel my trip to Vietnam in January since you can't go in an airplane when you have a gas bubble in your eye. Let's just hope the other eye has another few years left on it before it decides to let go.