Here's Looking at You

So I have to share my scary story for the new year. I went to the eye doctor on Friday. Not the optometrist that I've been seeing to have my prescription changed, the "I think there might be an issue" ophthalmologist. I haven't been to my ophthalmologist in probably 10 years or so. My eyes had been good, only some minor prescription changes and I figured I was doing fine. Then Christmas rolled around. 

Jeff and I spent Christmas Eve with my parents, having dinner and just visiting. As we sat around the living room I decided that it was the perfect night to build a fire (they have a great woodburner that I love). So I wandered out into the dark backyard to get some wood. I found the woodpiles without too much trouble although it was dark. As I was bending over gathering the twigs, suddenly I saw a flash of light. A bright round flash of light. Like a circle in my field of vision. My eyes were open. I closed them and saw the same round glowing circle. 

Now I know what flashing lights in the eye mean. They mean a potential for a retinal tear. My mother had issues with flashers. My aunt had issues with flashers. Both had surgery to correct the issue. So a flashing light, no matter what shape is serious. This flash of light caught my breath. I was shaken. I went inside and pretended that nothing had happened though. I waited. And then I didn't say anything the next day. But each time I was in a dark place I would see the ring. Finally, right after the new year I was freaked out enough to make an appointment. On Friday I went in and had a complete work-up. Full dilation, full exam. He even did some specialized tests. Nothing. Absolutely nothing wrong. I can relax.

For those of you who know me, you know how scary this was for me. For the rest of you, I'll explain. I was born with a defect. A stray artery (called the hyaloid artery) that was supposed to disappear when I was born, didn't disappear. Instead it stretched and ripped a hole in the back of my eye, right at my retina. I have a retinal detachment, in a relatively bad spot. The tear took with it my central vision. I have good peripheral but no central vision at all. What that means is that I'm legally blind in that eye. The ring I was seeing was in my other eye (the good eye). If that one had detached I wouldn't be typing this. I wouldn't be able to read it. I would be legally blind. Not completely blind but enough to change my life forever, in a bad way. I would have to learn braille. I wouldn't be able to drive. I wouldn't be able to do my job. 

And that scared me. I thought about how hard it would be to not be able to just pick up any book I want. I thought about how hard it would be to not see what I was writing. I thought about how hard it would be to get around without being able to drive. As I type this I close my good eye and see how well it would go. The red line under my misspelling doesn't even show up in my vision. Easy writing would be a thing of the past. All that said I know that there are people out there who are completely blind and they lead normal happy otherwise healthy lives. I know that I'm blessed with this one eye, that has done double duty since I was born. I know that my story came out good and I'm healthy. I still see the ring but I'm not as worried. But for a moment I was, and because of it, I treasure the sight that I have all the more. 

Saturday Night at the...Emergency Room?

Last night I learned the true meaning of terror. As most of you know, I've been dealing with Bronchitis for the last couple weeks. I do a lot of unproductive coughing, deal with mild chest pain, and complain to everyone around me. Last night, it turned scary.

I sat up playing until about midnight last night. I'd been a good day of visiting friends and relaxing and I was feeling good. Not even any anxiety. Most nights I wake up with some sort of coughing fit and last night was no exception. About 1:30 I woke up coughing, then gasping, then choking. My larynx decided that it was done with all the abuse it has taken the last couple weeks and closed in what is called a laryngospasm. I felt like I was suffocating. Jeff heard me struggling for breath and raced up the stairs. He arrived and helped me to the floor. I was light-headed from lack of oxygen. And apparently that was the magic remedy. As I lay on the floor my throat opened and I was finally able to breath again. Jeff bundled me into the car and we drove (rather quickly I must say) to the ER.

I used to tell people all the time that with the number of times Jeff's been to the ER, I've never had the opportunity to go for myself. That part is true. I've never had to go to the emergency room for me. I've never had a reason. But as I walked into the waiting room (blissfully empty) I was shaking and still pulling a bit for air. The lady behind the desk asked for my name and birthday and then her eyes went wide when I told her I had stopped breathing. She immediately printed out a wrist bracelet and I was whisked behind the closed doors and set up on my very own cot. Since they were short on rooms I got a spot in the hallway. Jeff and I ended up spending from about 2 until 4 last night in the emergency room. I was attended to pretty frequently and everyone was incredibly nice. It made a scary experience a little more relaxing. I'm currently living on about four hours of sleep but I'm a little afraid of coughing. And sometime this morning I'm running out to get the "good" cough syrup I was prescribed.

But last night had to be the scariest night of my life. I've never felt that close to death and I have to say that a suffocating death would not be pretty. I can't wish that on my worst enemy. Today I'm still nervous that it will happen again but mostly I'm just happy to be alive. And counting my blessings. I think it will be a long time before I take breathing for granted again.