A visit to the Eye Hospital reminds me that I am still ill

I went to the eye hospital yesterday to see the consultant about my double vision and found out that I will probably need to have an operation on my eyes next – yay! what fun. I go back in March to find out more.

I am still in recovery mode after feeling bad yesterday and can’t fully wake up so I will be brief in telling you about the great woman who is my new eye consultant until another time.

She put me through a variety of examinations with drops in my eyes that made my pupils weirdly large and after probing and shining lights into them and making me roll my eyes in every possible direction, she concluded that I have got a problem with eye movement which might get resolved surgically or by a new lens prescription for my glasses.

She showed me all my brain scan photos too including the latest one, done in October, which I hadn’t seen before. It was good to see that the haemorrhage had shrunk but a bit tough to see that is still there – like an old enemy still haunting me.

It was also a shock to see the original brain scan with its star burst of blood – I am lucky to be alive so I am not going to grumble.

I am not squeamish about seeing inside the human body and I was really interested to see these scans from different stages of my recovery but it was odd then that I still find it traumatic to see the haemorrhage again. It has been my companion for so long now that I find it difficult being objective about looking at it.

Maybe, when I get my next MRI brain scan in the Spring, that sinister circle of blood will have gone all together.

I hope so but I can still feel it there on the left side of my head reminding me that I still have to be careful. My annoying visual problems don’t seem quite so bad in comparison.

That old overwhelming feeling of tiredness makes me stop writing this today. I am off for a lie down.

See you tomorrow.


  1. Oooh! Is it squint surgery? I've had that twice (and may be having it again before too long).

    When I went to Bury, they gave me an information sheet with things I should bring: jim jams, dressing gown and my "child's favourite toy". I had to explain that I don't have a child, let alone one with a favourite toy.

    When I had the op, there was me and a woman also in her forties, the rest of the patients were all aged under ten!

    Best of luck with it, anyway.

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