The Glimmer of Hope Continues

I took Dad to an eye doc appointment today. He was nervous, but I could sense a little less depressed. His eye didn’t look as sore and swollen.

First, a nurse examined his eye and put some drops in to dilate the pupil. He asked the same question he asks every nurse, “Will it get better?” The nurse was patient and positive, saying she’s seen cases like this, and they have resulted in the patient being able to see. They don’t have all of the results back from the lab test, so they still aren’t 100% certain which type of bacteria it is. For now, he’s taking an antibiotic that will zap just about everything.

The doctor came in, and he too was very patient. My father had several questions ready, which the doctor answered as thoroughly as he could. One key element in all of this is that my father has diabetes. Although his blood flow is fine, the blood quality can have an impact on how the eye will heal. This is why he must be very careful to keep his blood sugar at the regulated level. Thanks to my Mom, my Dad has been religious about putting in all of his drops.

The doctor did an ultrasound on the eye. I said, “ooo, the heartbeat… oh, wrong ultrasound.” That got a little chuckle from my Dad anyway.

The infection is clearing and the eye looks better. My Dad still sees only light, but that’s a good sign. He doesn’t have to wear his patch during the day. But he needs to be careful when turning to the right. Still no tennis or driving, of course.

Right now, there is a chance that my Dad will regain the sight in his eye. It could take months, but there is a chance.

After we made the follow-up appointment and were walking to the car, I said, “Dad, if this were me, what would you say?” He said, “I would tell you that the eye is healing and that you should be patient. You should keep a positive attitude.” I said, “Back at you.” He smiled.

He didn’t sigh as much during the ride home. I could sense a glimmer of hope in his being. I am going to do all I can to keep that glimmer of hope alive.

Seeing Fear, Part II - A Ray of Hope

I took my parents to my dad’s follow up appointment today. The place felt like a factory. First, we sat in the waiting room for what seemed like an eternity. Then, they called him in. I waited while my mother went in with him. The nurse removed the bandage. He can see light but he still cannot see shapes. My mother called me to sit with them in the hallway while they waited to speak with the doctor. We waited for what seemed like another eternity (although I did thumb through a good article in this month’s New Yorker about the similarities between the government’s role in helping the farming industry and what it might be able to do for healthcare.. but I digress).

All we saw were doctors and nurses walking up and down and hallway, not making eye contact, which made even my father chuckle. My father was nervous. My mother was driving him crazy with a ton of questions. I just kept flipping through the magazine trying to focus on one article at a time. At last, we heard, “Leon Sherman.”

We all piled into the very small examination room where the doctor looked into his eye again and then made his next assessment. He used a model, which was helpful. He said that my father’s eye was filled with pus. The doctor was able to remove about 95% of it. The other 5% is sitting too close to the retina, and there was too much of a risk to try to go there. It’s a matter of blasting it out with antibiotics and letting the retina heal. This happens one in every 1,000 cases (sorry, I said 10,000 in my prior post).

The bad news is that he cannot see out of that eye now. The good news is that there is a chance he will be able to see should the infection clear and the retina heal. That might take another two weeks. In the meantime, my father must take three different kinds of drops several times per day to help fight this. He must also wear an eye shield at night and sun glasses that practically wrap around his head when he goes out during the day. He hates these glasses. He says they make him look old.
To answer the question of whether or not he will play tennis again? I am betting on yes. Should he lose sight in that eye, he will also be able to drive. But let’s take it one step at a time.

He has another appointment next Tuesday. As long as the eye doesn’t get worse or hurt, he very well might be on the road to recovery.

Stay tuned… and thank you for your well wishes. They mean a lot.