In the country of the blind
May. 4th, 2006 04:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
perlmongerWell, that was fun. I’ve just returned from Bristol Eye Hospital. Tail end of yesterday and this morning I’ve had a steadily worsening area of blurred vision in my right eye; nothing like an occlusion, and (just) outside my normal line of vision, so it’s irritating rather than disabling, but I was worried enough about a detached retina to mention it to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ramtops this morning, who immediately suggested I phone NHS Direct.
The woman I spoke to there was sufficiently concerned to tell me to phone the eye hospital, stat. So I did, and got booked in for a 2pm appointment.ramtops drove me in and, after only 20 minutes, I was seen by a nurse who did the usual basic vision checks, squirted anæsthetic into both eyes, prodded them with some strange device to check pressure (no glaucoma: good) and a second pair of squirts of belladonna or some equivalent substance to get my pupils to dilate.
Another half an hour wait while they did so, and a doctor had a good visual rummage inside my orbs. My retinas are fine, it seems, but I’m suffering from a badger-related slumpage of my vitreous humour. The stuff has decided to stop being firm and jelly-like, and instead enter some obscene liquid phase with occasional resultant floaters that affect vision and, as it were, take a while to flush away. The only worry (apart from yet another symptom of decay) is that the jelly can potentially adhere to my retina, and in that case possibly yank in a desultory but nonetheless vicious manner and cause detachment and/or tearing. If I see flashing lights or, well, large areas of nothing, I’m apparently supposed to run, not walk, back to them for whatever laser-equipped bastardry they might then perform.
So. Now I’m sitting here typing in a blurred fashion, with eyes that might have been transplanted from a smackhead, with a baseball cap on to ward off the evil rays from the window. The nurse said that they would take a couple of hours to return to whatever semblance of normality they possess, but they’re not quite there yet.
Upshot is that I’m actually well impressed by this, my first direct exposure to the NHS for years. The whole process (discounting vile Brissle traffic caused by the rending asunder of Broadmead) took maybe five hours from first phone call to leaving the hospital, with every person I dealt with being helpful, friendly and informative. I know that large tracts of the NHS are in crisis, thanks mostly to the general raving incompetence, corruption and occasional malice of NooLabor, but I’m glad to be able to say that this bit worked.
ramtops this morning, who immediately suggested I phone NHS Direct.The woman I spoke to there was sufficiently concerned to tell me to phone the eye hospital, stat. So I did, and got booked in for a 2pm appointment.
ramtops drove me in and, after only 20 minutes, I was seen by a nurse who did the usual basic vision checks, squirted anæsthetic into both eyes, prodded them with some strange device to check pressure (no glaucoma: good) and a second pair of squirts of belladonna or some equivalent substance to get my pupils to dilate.Another half an hour wait while they did so, and a doctor had a good visual rummage inside my orbs. My retinas are fine, it seems, but I’m suffering from a badger-related slumpage of my vitreous humour. The stuff has decided to stop being firm and jelly-like, and instead enter some obscene liquid phase with occasional resultant floaters that affect vision and, as it were, take a while to flush away. The only worry (apart from yet another symptom of decay) is that the jelly can potentially adhere to my retina, and in that case possibly yank in a desultory but nonetheless vicious manner and cause detachment and/or tearing. If I see flashing lights or, well, large areas of nothing, I’m apparently supposed to run, not walk, back to them for whatever laser-equipped bastardry they might then perform.
So. Now I’m sitting here typing in a blurred fashion, with eyes that might have been transplanted from a smackhead, with a baseball cap on to ward off the evil rays from the window. The nurse said that they would take a couple of hours to return to whatever semblance of normality they possess, but they’re not quite there yet.
Upshot is that I’m actually well impressed by this, my first direct exposure to the NHS for years. The whole process (discounting vile Brissle traffic caused by the rending asunder of Broadmead) took maybe five hours from first phone call to leaving the hospital, with every person I dealt with being helpful, friendly and informative. I know that large tracts of the NHS are in crisis, thanks mostly to the general raving incompetence, corruption and occasional malice of NooLabor, but I’m glad to be able to say that this bit worked.
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-05 06:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-06 08:05 am (UTC)He's now got the dates settled for the ops, which I'll let him announce. The surgeon is advising a couple of weeks off altogether and his colleagues at work have been very supportive (I think his big boss is as phobic as he is, and thus very understanding), so it's going to be taken care of quite swiftly, thank goodness.