Mar 092013
  • Multiple Sclerosis
  • Osteoarthritis
  • Hypertension
  • Raynaud’s
  • Borderline Diabetes
  • Glaucoma


No, that’s not the diagnosis list of an elderly woman whose boobs are dragging pavement. Nope. Not even close… well, except for the dragging pavement part. That’s my shiny, new and updated list. Just sign up for the nearest home. Package me up & ship me off.

Yesterday, I spent 3 hours with the eye doctor. 3 hours. And when I finally left that office, it was another appointment card in hand. All I wanted was a new prescription for lenses but I ended up getting a lot more than that.

At the beginning of the appointment I was put through the visual optical course that they so enjoy inflicting on us. Read this line, read that line, how many fingers do you see here and there. Then came the air. Puffs of air. Lots of puffs of air. At least 5 in each eye to begin with. And my ocular pressure was high… way to high. Out comes the second air puff device… may as well torture me some more. Another 5 puffs in each eye. By this time, my eye balls are so gun shy that I can barely keep them open enough to see… I was squinting through some little tiny slits… They eye balls were revolting, lowering the shields and getting ready to do battle. Or retreat.

After completing the eye ball obstacle course, I was placed in a room for some more eye ball Olympics. You know the routine. You look through that great big steam punk looking contraption hanging from the ceiling. “One or two.” “Two or three.” “One or three” “Three or four” … now cover your left eye and let’s do it all again.

Then came the numbing drops. You know, it’s all well & good to numb the eye balls… I appreciate it… I really do. But when you can see what’s coming straight for the eye, well, there’s no getting past that. My eye balls revolted again, lowering the shields as the blue suction cup thingy was making a rapid approach for the invasion. And the doc starts saying things like “hold really still” “don’t blink” ” look straight ahead”… pft, how is a person supposed to comply with those orders when you are trying to affix a blue suction cup thingy to the eye? Let me tell you, it’s nearly impossible.


The end result is that the suction cup was attached, eye stared at the doc’s ear, and my eye pressure was measured yet again.

And it was still much to high. Normal interoccular pressure is in the neighborhood of 10. Mine was 36 in both eyes. I guess if I’m going to do this I may as well do it good.

I go back in 3 weeks for a full glaucoma work up. That sounds like a shit load of fun to me. We’ll get the final official pressure reading and decide on treatment.

There is one tiny little sliver of hope in there… a thin little silver thread that maybe part of a larger lining that we just can’t see yet… I might not have glaucoma. I could have a thick membrane in my eye that is affecting the pressure readings. But the doc doesn’t think so.

Another fun tidbit – I have graduated from bifocals to trifocals. Lucky me. I’m making the switch to progressive trifocal lenses in some uber cool horn rimmed glasses. They should be here in a week or so.

Yay me.

Being an adult is like looking both ways before you cross the street and then getting hit by an airplane.

  9 Responses to “Eye Ball Obstacle Course”

  1. What’s next? A hurricane?

    (not funny, I know)

  2. You know what? I hate going to the dentist but I hate going to the eye doctor even more. All that one or two, two or three, three or two business stresses me out. And that puff of air? I would have told them what they could do with that puff of air after one in each eye. And a suction cup? I have not even heard of that until now. Might as well just stick pins in my eyes which is something I am sure they do to you when you don’t comply.

  3. Damn.Good luck, God bless, and who even knew they made trifocals?! I hope your doctor is wrong and it isn’t glaucoma, will be praying for you!

  4. Aaaargh. Not fair.
    I have (very temporarily) lost my vision to MS a few times and it scared the crap out of me.
    I hope it is glaucoma, and that the treatment isn’t too awful.

  5. Oh man, that’s awful. So sorry. Saying ‘don’t worry’ is stupid, so I won’t. I hope whatever’s going on will be easy to take care of. (((hugs))

    • i’m trying not to worry… i have my moments but more than anything i can’t get over the ridiculousness of it all… i mean really, what’s going to fall apart next? haha it’s getting to the point of some serious humor

  6. Oh, Sherri, I’m so sorry you’ve had yet another problem thrown into you bag of woes! I hope that if it is glaucoma, they’ll be able to treat it.

    • i don’t know much about glaucoma but what i’ve read so far is that it’s very treatable, which is good. it’s funny – through all of this i’ve been most worried about two things with MS… losing my vision and my mind. i never imagined i’d run the risk of losing my vision from some other disease process…. ah well, at least my life isn’t lacking in entertaining dilemmas ha!

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