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Over the past 10 days, I’ve been to three different doctors.  I’m starting to feel like my parents.  The most important of the three was two days ago.  My appointment was with Dr. Ayres, the one who did the partial cornea transplant (DSEK) in December 2008.  He thought that the cataract I’ve had in my left eye for sometime could be the culprit in my steadily worsening vision, but he sent me to Dr. Garg, a retina specialist, to rule out a retina issue.  Dr. Ruffini also thought I should consider having the cataract removed.

I was not looking forward to another surgery on my left eye until things started going downhill in July.  The problem was, none of the doctors knew what was causing the problem.  The cataract didn’t seem much worse than a few months earlier, if at all.  After going from one specialist to another, it was determined it wasn’t a glaucoma issue or a retina issue.  Lets just hope it is the cataract that is the issue.

I’m having the cataract removed on 15 April (so I guess I’ll send our taxes in early…)  There is also a possibility that I’ll have another DSEK (endothelial transplant.)  The donor endothelia will be in the OR, just in case.  Evidently, removing the cataract risks damaging my now 70 year old endothelia (along with the other common risks associated with this in most people and specific risks for unique individuals, such as myself, with other eye issues.)

I am disappointed that I have to wait that long for the surgery.  I joked with Dr. Ayres that I was ready to have it yanked on Wednesday.  I’m sure I have been less than pleasant to be around at home.  Tonight, I was home alone while Eliz, the kids, and a few of Jane’s friends went to see Alice in Wonderland — I miss going to the movies.  My frustration level is high and it takes me so long to do many basic things.  I am so ready to get the cataract out, it is hard not to get excited.  I’m trying to temper the excitement, since it only leads to disappointment after the surgery (at least after the last three.)

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Okay, technically it was seven years ago yesterday since it is past midnight.  What happened back then?  I had a trabeculectomy on my left eye.  It was my twelfth glaucoma operation and first since 20 May 1980.  Maybe I should have put off that surgery.  Since that trab in 2003, I have not seen better than 20/100 (and that was only for a span of about eight months.)  Before the surgery I was about 20/80.  A little better on some days and a little worse on others.  I was able to read the mail by myself.  Well, I wasn’t by myself.  Our dog Zamboni, would sit next to me while I went through it.

There were plenty of other things I could do then that I miss terribly now.  I still love sports, I just can’t participate anymore.  I used to go to about 30 Flyers games a season.  Even then I couldn’t see the puck, but I could follow the game and enjoyed going.  I’ve been to three since 28 January 2003.  That date was the last home game before my surgery.  It was the last game I “saw” (and it was a bad game — a 3-0 loss to Tampa Bay.)  I’ve been to two Phillies games at Citizens Bank Park, one this past season when they played Baltimore (and lost 6-5.)  A friend had two extra tickets and Jane wanted to go (it was her first Phils game, but her second O’s game.)  It was great seeing her get into the game and get excited, and I enjoyed spending time with my friend and his son.  As far as the game went, I pretended like I knew what was going on, but I didn’t.

My whole life was about trying to maintain my vision.  Glaucoma cannot be fixed or reversed.  I remember as a kid I used to ask my eye doctor if anything new had been developed that could improve my vision.  The answer then is the same as it is now: not yet.  Maybe some day.  On that day back in 2003, we tried.  It just didn’t work out the way we hoped.

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So, today marked the first anniversary of my partial cornea transplant (for those that need to know specifics, I had a DSAEK procedure, which is a partial-thickness corneal transplant that replaces only the endothelial layer.)  I guess this means that at least part of my body (a very small part on a rather large body) is 70 years old.  God knows I often feel like I’m 70…

When I had the surgery, I wondered how well I would see in the days and months afterwards.  As I’ve mentioned in other posts, most of my doctors were pretty optimistic.  They all agreed that unless something went wrong, I’d get back to 20/200.  Some thought I could get to 20/100 or even better.  One year later and my vision is at 20/400.

Dreams of reading a newspaper, magazine, purchase orders, invoices (those that I create to send to a customer, not those sent by a vendor — Eliz can read those,) mail, and anything else printed on paper never came true.  Wild fantasies of tossing a softball around with Jane, hitting a tennis ball around with Jake, going to a Phillies, Flyers, or Eagles game (you know, I’ve never been to the Link) and enjoying it have all been placed back deep in the corner of my mind next to being a rock star, an action-hero actor, or a top chef.

As I’ve previously posted, none of my ophthalmologists know why my vision has deteriorated since June.  Maybe it’s from the mold at our business (we’ll know shortly, because we are vacating or current building very shortly.)  Maybe it’s age related.  Maybe it’s because I’ve gained weight.  Maybe it’s just supposed to be this way.

I have an appointment on 9 December with the cornea specialist.  Perhaps he will have an answer better than the last time I saw him, when he told me that he didn’t know what it was and it would be a hard fix.  I’ll post sometime after the appointment and let you know.

I do plenty of complaining, whining, and ranting here.  One thing I’m not sure I’ve ever done is thank the donor of the endothelia that now resides on the fifth layer of my cornea.  I don’t know who he or she was.  I only know that the donor was 69 years old when they died and without their cornea (even though they only used the endothelia, the whole cornea was available to me) I would almost certainly be much worse off.  Thank you sir/madam, I do appreciate your gift.

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