Turns Out "Eye'm" Just Fine

Warning: You are hereby warned the following contains content which may cause those with weak constitutions possible bouts of uncomfortability.
 

Legend:

Me speaking inside my head
Voice Inside My Head #1

Voice Inside My Head #2

"Well ... we're looking forward to this. It appears you are, too, being you arrived 10 minutes early."

"Shut up. I don't like being late ... you know that. It has nothing to do with looking forward to it. I'm about to have my eye violated. You think I'm looking forward to that?"

"You were the one who made the appointment. Don't get snippy with us."

I arrived at the doctor's office for my eye surgery promptly at 11:10 a.m. Tuesday. 

I was calm enough. I've never been not squeamish, I'm not afraid of blood or needles, I can tolerate a fair amount of pain and the thought of undergoing a minor surgical procedure while awake didn't disturb me in the least. The thing I was twitchy about? It was going to take place in plain sight, literally. Right smack dab in front of me. I was having work done on my eyelid and I would be witness to the entire thing.

"The doctor said he was giving you a local. You won't feel a thing. We'll see if that holds true."

"I realize that. I'm not concerned about that. It's just I'm subjecting myself to violation of my Eye Rule, that's all ..."

"Grow a pair, big boy. You'll weather the storm just fine. And, if not, you'll still have one good eye."

"I know I will. Can the chatter. Both of you."

A bit after the appointed time, I was shuttled into a surgical room and was seated among various equipment. The nurse who escorted me told me to sit and handed me a release form, explained it to me and asked me to sign it when I had read it. I scanned it and added my John Hancock. "Any questions before the doctor comes in?" she asked.

"No ... other than I'm still having a hard time believing this is nothing more than a cosmetic procedure when I have pain and irritation, one of the reasons I'm subjecting myself to this ..."

"Did you inform the doctor of that?"

"Yes, as well as the nurse who scheduled my appoint last week."

As we were discussing this the doctor walked in. The nurse looked up at him, then back at me.

I continued. "I'm still going to aggressively look into the situation and pursue reimbursement for the procedure," I told her.

The nurse looked back at the doctor and asked him something I didn't quite catch.

"We're not going to do that," the doctor replied as he turned to me and asked how I was doing.

"Fine," I responded. "Looking forward to this being over."

"It shouldn't be any problem. Again, you're going to get a local, then I'll get to work. Just try and relax." He stood over me, looked me in the left eye and suddenly held up a syringe. "This might sting a bit. Try not to move. I'm going to clean around your eye with iodine."

"You're in for it now."

"I'll be fine. Don't try exacerbating the situation."

Iodine dripped down my face and he caught it with gauze. A pause, then it was go time. A needle came into view.

Suddenly, I yelled inside my head:

"HELLO! NEEDLE COMING DIRECTLY AT MY EYE OVER HERE ... !!!"

"Unclench your hands and concentrate on keeping them open. That might help."

As the needle came closer, it went out of focus. That was a bit of a relief. Then, all of a sudden, I felt the sting of it. Then again. And again. And again. And once more.

Honestly, it wasn't that bad. I've poked myself in the eye and it's hurt worse. Still, I was flinching and blinking furiously. Stuff comes near my eyes and I go into hyperdrive.

"I remember you telling me you're sensitive about your eyes," the doctor said while working. "That's natural to everyone. We have a predisposition about our eyes ..."

"I'm several points higher than your average everyone," I confessed to him. "I'll do my best not to blink, though." He smiled.

A minute or so went by while he fiddled with items on a tray beside him. Then he prodded my eyelid with something. "Feel anything?" he asked.

"Not a thing," I told him.

"That's the first thing they ask before they remove the eye, you know ..."

"Shut! Up! I'm having a growth removed, not my eye!"

"He could slip. How old is this dude, anyway?" 

I sighed.

"Okay ... here we go" the doctor announced. Another implement came in view. I didn't recognize it. I felt him tug on my eyelid, but it was a dull sensation, I barely felt it. Fortunately I didn't feel any cutting or scraping as he began removing the papilloma on the edge of my eyelid.

He worked for some minutes, daubed at my eye, then came at me with yet another tool.

"Almost finished," he announced. "We're just going to close this up."

"Crap! You know what that is, don't you?!?"

Suddenly I saw smoke tendrils snaking up into the air.

"CRIPES! SMOKE! Smoke's coming from my eye!" 

I didn't feel anything but suddenly there was that familiar tang of singed flesh in the air. It was cauterizing time. I'd forgotten about that. I concentrated on my hands to make certain they were unclenched. They were.

And then ... he was done. "I'm just going to put on some ointment and you're free to go. Any complications - and I don't expect there to be any - just give the office a call," he offered.

"Well, that was no fun. I was looking forward to some hysterical dramatics."

"We should know better. He talks big talk that that's going to happen but he rarely delivers on the promise. Try as we might, you know it's difficult to get to him ..."

"What a jerk ..."

I ignored the voices and spoke to the doctor. "Thank you. Hope I wasn't too twitchy. On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being worst, that entire procedure was a .5, doc. And that was appreciated." He smiled and waved me off.

"Okay, you're free to go. I'll accompany you out," the nurse told me.

I got up out of the chair and followed her out. We got to an interior reception area, she handed a file to someone behind a computer and told me to call if there were any problems or concerns.

"Wait ... what about payment?" I asked her.

"It's taken care of. No need."

I was surprised. Abundantly so.

I got to my vehicle and looked in my rear view mirror. It looked as if I'd been in a fight. But I wasn't in any pain. I could feel swelling, a touch of numbness, I was black and blue from the shots but unexpectedly comfortable.

And ... I still had use of my eye ...

.......... Ruprecht ( STOP )

Rule Violations

Several months ago my left eye began bugging me. I thought there might be some speck in it that found a comfortable home and I rubbed it and rubbed it.

Days and weeks went by and the irritation I felt, though minor, was becoming tiresome.

A thorough self examination revealed I had a small bump growing on my bottom left eyelid. It was nothing more than a small growth but I came to notice, in addition to the irritation, it was starting to play with my peripheral vision. Naturally, I did a lot of research.

To the best of my understanding, what I had on my eyelid was nothing more than a common eyelid papilloma, an often benign epithelial growth. Still, an appointment with an ophthalmologist was in order and I made one, just to be sure.

Now, I have rules. Lots of them, actually. Two big rules are these: "No sharp or burning objects near the groin" and "the only thing that belongs in your eye is your elbow." I think they're good rules, rules that make sense. I'm sure many of you would agree - pretty good rules.

Additionally, I wear glasses. I have since my mid-twenties. Just for distance. I'm near-sighted. When I drive, especially at night, or go to films or concerts, I wear them. No contacts for me, though - that would be a direct violation of that one rule about things in your eye.

Anyway, knowing this, you'd think going to an eye doctor would make me nervous or anxious. It doesn't. I'm very calm leading up to an appointment and I explain myself very carefully to whoever might be coming near my eyes when there. They simply need to take things slowly. Because I'm twitchy about my eyes. So long as we have an understanding, I can control any ocular anxiety.

Being this was the first appointment with this particular ophthalmologist, routine testing was necessary. Several tests as a matter of fact. Including that intraocular pressure test to determine if you may be at risk of (or have) glaucoma.

Inwardly I cringed a little. I warned the nurse about to give me the IOP test I was "things-in-my-eye" phobic.

Somehow I weathered through it.

"See? That wasn't so bad," she said. "Now, switch eyes so we can do the other one, Mr. Noble."

One eye? I can handle. But repeated with the other eye I knew what was coming.

I knew for certain a razor sharp, eight-inch gleaming steel needle was coming out the portal I was to look into which would go right through my eye and pierce the back of my skull.

I tried to keep my eye open ... really I did. But I kept blinking, closing it, fluttering it in anticipation of that air puff. I probably started sweating, I don't remember. But the nurse administering the test was patient with me. Still, I knew she'd loaded that extra sharp needle; I could read it on her face: she knew I was going to be a problem child and that second eye was going to take forever. Revenge would be hers for me wasting her time with my needless blinking.
 
Some minutes later (it felt longer), and to my great relief, I realized she hadn't loaded that needle after all. I came out of the test none the worse for wear. Mostly.

I was shuttled down a hall to a private room and waited in an examination chair for the doctor. Meanwhile another nurse took information from me. She asked me if I wore glasses, any eye problem history, asked why I was there, blah blah blah. She had me look at an eye chart, handed me an eye cover to hold over one eye and asked of me the smallest line I was able to read.

"Didn't I explain to you I'm practically blind without my glasses?" I blurted. "I might be able to make out a few of the characters on the first line if you're lucky" I commented, squinting at the line with the largest letters. "Let's see ... 'O' ... uhm ... I think that's a 'V' ... maybe ... that next one is the letter 'B' with a number '3' backed up against it ... and I have no idea what alien language that next character is" I told her. I switched eyes. "Um ... that's one of those highway signs that has the lines indicating 'slippery when wet' ... and for the life of me I can't make out any of the others" I confessed. She had me put my glasses on. I could see everything on the smallest line perfectly and told her so. She finished adding information to my file, excused herself and told me the doctor would be in momentarily.

I sighed and relaxed. The doctor came in a minute later, introduced himself, shook my hand and asked me the reason for my visit. After jawing at him for a few minutes he said "Let's have a look, shall we? Let's see what your right eye looks like first ..."

When he got to my left eye, he looked at it silently and quietly. "Yep ... that's what it is. A simple papilloma. Oh ... that's strange" he commented all of a sudden. I resisted questioning him until after he was finished.

"What's strange?" I asked when he was done.

"Nothing really," he said. "There are just some interesting fronds coming off it is all. Is it bothering you now?"

"Yes ... and it's irritating at times. It's grown larger over the last few months, ever since I first noticed it. It hurts here and there and I see it in my peripheral vision. I thought I better come in and have it checked."

"So ... we're going to schedule it for removal then, yes?"

"Yes. Please tell me what's involved ..."

"It's a simple procedure. We numb your eyelid, similar to when a dentist gives you Novocaine, then we scrape it off. You'll be fine. Outpatient procedure, no downtime. I'll prescribe an ointment. That's it. Pretty simple stuff ..."

"Yeah ... but there will be a scalpel coming at my eye I have to contend with" I told myself silently.

"We can schedule it as soon as next week if you like. The nurse will arrange it at your convenience" he told me as he left.

"Thank you. I'll see you then."

The nurse scheduled me for Tuesday, May 10th at 11:20 a.m. 

Doomsday. The day I lose an eye.

"Just have $120.00 available for the procedure when you come back in," the nurse told me.

"Insurance doesn't cover this?"

"No. It's considered cosmetic."

"So ... it's irritating me, I can see it growing, it has the potential to become something dangerous and it could blind my eyesight if I just let it continue doing its thing. That's considered cosmetic?" I asked, probably over animatedly.

"Unfortunately yes," she told me.

"What do I have to do to contest that? Because what I've said doesn't sound 'cosmetic' to me. I humbly request it be billed to my insurance, please. If they reject it, I'll deal with it then."

"I'd be happy to do that for you, Mr. Noble. In order for us to proceed, however, the cost will be in place at the time of the procedure. If you're successful with your argument, your insurance will reimburse you."

So Tuesday morning, the 10th? I'll be paying $120.00 to have my blood pressure raised, to violate one of my most important life rules and to possibly go blind.

*sigh*

.......... Ruprecht The Future One-Eyed ( STOP )
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