I can’t see the big “E” on the eye chart that hangs in the eye doctor’s office. With my left eye, that is. Actually I can’t even see the chart. I was a little girl when they first discovered my goofy left eye. Was it because I walked into walls now and then?
Like most folks who have only one workable eye, I have adapted. I drive my car with ALL mirrors on high alert. I wear a headset microphone when I perform so I can use my good eye to see the ukulele fretboard. I’m almost sure that my depth perception and your of depth perception are not the same. For a short time I took a softball class at the local junior college. I remember the P.E. teacher groaning loudly as I’d swing the bat. Way before the ball arrived at the plate. Maybe she thought I was on drugs or would do better with T-Ball. Or no ball at all.
I bring this up because I worry about something happening to my good eye. My right eye. Because I don’t have a spare. And that’s how I end up in the Emergency Room at U.C.L.A. The day before New Years. It’s our second trip to the E.R. in 2015.
I’m having a lovely day, doing errands. I like doing errands. I like watching my fellow people behaving in interesting ways in our natural habitat. Stores. Here I am at Target and I like Target. The lights cast a yellowish “buy me” glow from above. Not like outside. And that is when I notice a throng of tiny gnats swarming in front of me. And a miniature Medusa head, tendrils and all, zigzagging to my right. Long waving filaments glistening to my left and a little puddle of goo straight ahead. What the hell kind of promotion are they doing in Target today? Then I realize I am experiencing my own private light show. In my good eye.
I flash to the last time I visited my ophthalmologist. Before my eyes totally dilate, I am staring down the poster on the wall in the darkened waiting room. It’s a “bad news” poster: If you have these symptoms, get your ass to the doctor right NOW because you are screwed! Or something like that. Standing in the express line at Target, I am seeing BAD NEWS and other stuff you might watch swim by in a dirty aquarium.
Lots of us have “floaters” in our eyes. Little knots of diaphanous pebbles that dance around the visual field. I’ve had them for years. They come and mostly go or else my brain gives up and ignores them. But today in Target this is different. WAY different.
And that’s why I’m in the Emergency Room and very embarrassed because, come on, it’s not like I’m having a heart attack or I broke some bones, like my husband did a few months ago. I apologize from the get-go to anyone who will listen. “Maybe it’s just floaters…but this is my only good eye…” I whimper.
But a generosity of kindness and goodwill pervade the E.R. on this pre-holiday afternoon. The doctors and nurses reassure me that I did the right thing. What if this is a worst-case scenario? What if my retina is detaching or tearing, even a little? Then time is of the essence to save my vision.
They begin with an ultra-sound of my right eye. Wow, I didn’t know there was such a thing? The doctor rubs the ultra-sound wand across my covered eye. Back and forth. She doesn’t see a retina tear but calls in the expert anyway. A few minutes later an ophthalmology resident appears and dilates my eyes with an assortment of drops.
I’ve never had an eye exam like this before. He warns me about the bright light he’ll shine directly into my dilated eye and the “poking and pushing.” Ladies let’s just say it’s like having a mammogram on your eye. Okay? And it goes on and on. Like ten years worth of mammograms in one flesh-squashing session.
Well I applaud the guy for his thoroughness and my husband for not keeling over. With his super-duper light probe, the doctor circles my retina as I aim my eyes at an imaginary clock on the ceiling. One O’ Clock, Two O’Clock, Three O’Clock…
“I have good news for you,” he finally says…
The gel in our eyes is called the vitreous and it’s supposed to stay jello-like; but as we get older the gel begins to shrink and detach from its moorings. The retina. The official name for this is Posterior Vitreous Detachment.
Apparently I’m okay for now, although this is an interesting way to begin a new year—watching spots and goo dance across the computer screen as I write this blog. I have a feeling my new ophthalmologist and I will be having regular meet and greets from now on. Maybe the flotilla of wiggling stuff will recede. Maybe not.
So I’m keeping an eye on things. And that is not a pun. So no groaning. I’m on the lookout for fireworks (not just a little sparkler but the grand finale of the July 4th Show) and a black curtain rolling down across my visual field. That could be bad news indeed—a detached retina.
But why should I, or anyone, be surprised. Everything changes. Our points of view, our body parts… I’m grateful I can still see and do and eat and love and be loved in return.
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PROGRAM NOTE FOR MY LOS ANGELES FRIENDS
Both my ukulele classes begin Saturday, January 23, 2016 at Boulevard Music in Culver City, CA. I teach Ukulele For Beginners, which is a five-week workshop and our four-week OnGoing Ukulele Workshop & Jam where we strum, fingerpick and learn a lot of new cool stuff. Please scroll down to see the flyers.
POSTSCRIPT
I am still receiving the most interesting responses to my last blog (THIS IS MY SEAT) about Frank Sinatra. Thank you! My neighbor’s father was a well-known and respected photographer. He took this iconic picture of Frank at the Hollywood Bowl in 1943. Apparently Sinatra didn’t like photographers either but he wanted a copy of this shot.
Michele
Hi Cali! I thought I would add my two cents after reading your stories. I have had the pleasure of attending your lessons with Palm Desert Strummers. I too have had some eye issues and understand the feeling of fear due to eye problems. I’ve had cataract surgery on both eyes and a detached retina which was helped thanks to the Retina Institute in Washington. My retina doctor told me my eye was not “cured” but the fix he did is still holding, thankfully. My brother has had two cornea transplants, so I count myself lucky. Hope I see you in the desert in the near future.
Cali Rose
Thank you Michele. We get to play ukulele through all the “fixes.”
Cali Rose
From T:
oh i love you cali!
i am so sorry for your eye stuff.
we all have reasons to celebrate every moment!
to bask in the “what is just now!”
and i celebrate with you
i love your jeepers creepers peepers photo, you always crack me up.
it seems like the older we get the more cracking up is both taking place
an needing a go. ya know?
your smile is a million words.
just floatin’ along.
Cali Rose
From H:
Cali, you make a strong case for learning some basics for “playing by ear”. I’m 80, had two cataract surgeries and constantly changing my glasses driving, reading, etc.
Floaters and fluorescent lights(esp. at dept. stores) can be troubling sometimes.
Cali’s Reply:
You make a really good point about playing by ear. Almost all the people I work with rely on their vision to make music, to read the charts. I’ve always played by ear and I want folks to experience the joy of making music “feeling” rather than seeing.
Cali Rose
From J:
Cali,don;t worry about your eye I too have floaters occasionally it’s just one of those things – keep in touch with your eye doctor and you will be just fine.
Cali Rose
From N:
I’ve always had a ‘lazy eye’ since I was a little boy. A couple years ago I noticed specks floating across my eye and thought it was the beginning of the end. It just so started happening on a day. {A friend assured me} “Oh, we all get those when we get older!”. The annoying part about it is bugs really bug me and I am some sort of bug love magnet, some kind of crazy bug pheromone that attracts them to ‘buzz’ me. These ‘floaters’ have me swatting at imaginary things with wings at times. It must be entertaining enough for bystanders.
Cali Rose
From S:
I love to read your blogs! But I didn’t like the news in this one. I had floaters a while back, but they went away. I’m sure your doctors told you, as mine told me, to watch out for flashing white light. That’s the detached retina signal!
You’re a real trooper, and I’m sure you’ll work thru this.
Cali Rose
From P:
I am repeating “…this getting old ain’t for sissies” way too much.
Cali Rose
From N:
I look forward to your blog when they come because they usually make me laugh and always inspire me in some way. So honest and clear, well written and strike a chord with me..
Cali Rose
From C:
I empathize with you. I had cataract surgery in both eyes last July. In August,
I developed floaters in the right eye; in October, they appeared in the left eye.
So, now I see floaty things all the time. It’s annoying. My ophthalmologist wants
To wait and see if they disappear naturally before considering alternatives. Some
folks say they’ve had floaters for decades though.
Cali Rose
From M:
I had a detatched retina in my right eye several years ago, and it was pretty scary. Fortunately, I was able to get to a retina specialist and have surgery right away. He saved my sight, and I will forever be grateful. I wish you well.
Cali Rose
From P:
I just wanted to tell you how much I related to your experience.
i did have the beginnings of a detached retina shortly before Thanksgiving.
Mine was discovered on a routine eye exam.
I took care of my dad until his passing in February last year at the age of 100.
He lost his sight due to a detached retina in the early 1980’s, and later went blind
in the other eye, so my thoughts were in the very scary department, too.
I’m so glad you are well. I, too, have about 90 percent recovery.
Looking ahead, I’m trusting this was an anomaly, but also filled with gratitude
every day for the gift of our senses,all of them! How precious this life is, all of it!
Cali Rose
From J & T:
My husband and I are both optometrists. You have written one of the best accounts of your vitreal separation that we have ever seen. Glad to hear that the outcome was good. Hopefully it will continue to be perfect. Thanks for sharing.
Cali Rose
From Y:
I’ve had floaters since I was a teenager so know what it’s like but as I get older, MORE floaters. When my husband first saw one of those floaters, he was batting away at it, thinking it was a fly he wanted to kill.
Cali Rose
From Anonymous:
You are not alone. Big floaters in both eyes….. When the second eye happened I thought my world had come to an end. Everyone told me they would go away, I would get used to them, etc….. nope.
They are still here two years later. I saw the best specialists at UCLA Stein. Begged for surgery. Was refused …… they don’t want to operate on otherwise ‘healthy’ eyes.
So …. what has ultimately happened, is exactly what everyone says. I have very grudgingly ‘learned to live with it’. I now am used to seeing things darting in front of my eyes all the time. My friends are used to me swiping at the air, trying to bat away ‘invisible mosquito swarms’, and I try not to drive in bright sunlight.
What finally kept me sane, is that I realized that people do have so much worse – this is an annoyance, and yes, as long as no retinal detachment, it is not ‘life-threatening’. I’ve had to give up certain things as I just can’t see clearly enough anymore. But for the most part, I just deal with it, and try and be grateful its not anything worse.
I do know that in some people, the floaters do dissolve back into the eye fluid – I would say that mine are are about 50% of the original first day, when I couldn’t see anything. And you do get used to seeing them, in the same way that we can always see our nose (or rims of our glasses) but we just sort of zone them out.
I wish I could be more helpful, but what I would like to offer, is for you to know that there are many of us out here and you are not alone. There are even facebook communities if you are interested.
So – stay hopeful that they may go away – but, and I don’t want to be negative, just realistic, don’t be surprised if they don’t. And know that you have a whole support community out in the cloud if you need it.
Cali Rose
CR Reply:
Thank you SO much for sharing this.
Brad Mallory
Enough already with you two! Hopefully 2016 will bring good health and plenty of strumming and picking. At least you have kept your sense of humor through all these travails, lord knows I wouldn’t. All my best to you and Craig. Hope to see you somewhere soon!
Cali Rose
Well we know how life is–sunshine, rain, hold your breath, hide under the covers, springtime. Gotta love it all. Thanks for checking in Brad.
Peggy
Cali,
Best wishes to you as the eyes have it! May your good eye stay good and your bad eye behave better! Getting older….not to say old is so NOT FUN! Thanks to the powers that be we have ukuleles for peace, joy, rock ‘n’ roll and FUN! Hang in there…no more ER visits any time soon!
Cali Rose
A toast to the badder getting better and the gooder staying good! At least most of the time. Peace, love and ukuleles to you too.
Phyllis Ryan
You are a born writer! And we need humorous writers in our world today!
Thank you for sharing all your adventures with us. I have enjoyed your classes and performances at uke fests; I teach a class called the Roadrunner Strummers in Albuquerque NM, but not as well as you! Hope to see you again soon!
Strength to your eyes!
Cali Rose
Thank yo so much Phyllis and thank you especially for bringing music and ukulele joy to folks in Albuquerque. Wonderful! Wonderful! “Strength” to both of us.