My right eye has suddenly reminded me of why I started this blog and I shouldn’t neglect it like I do.
I’ve always been a bit funny about my eyes, protective of them in strong ways because I’ve always been convinced that the majority of what makes me a writer and artist is in the way I see things. So I’ve always updated my glasses regularly and the thought of wearing contacts has always made me shudder. I like that my glasses are a small barrier in front of my eyes.
Then, on Sunday evening, after attending a lovely family barbecue in the afternoon, this huge, weird floater appeared in my eye and stayed in the centre of my vision, wafting about strangely as I moved my eye about. All kinds of horror thoughts went through my mind so the first thing on Monday I phoned up the doctor for an emergency appointment and after seeing me she phone up the eye clinic at York hospital and got me an appointment that afternoon.
It was quite a bit of a wait for everyone who attended, but most took the delay very well. Except for one little boy who said he was bored, to which his mother replied, “Well, let that be a lesson not to poke your toys in your eye again.” I guess some kids need to learn to be protective of their eyes the hard way.
The doctor who eventually saw me was very thorough with his examination and declared that there was no damage to the retina, which was a huge relief, and that I had something called Posterior Vitreous Detachment. This is where the gel inside the eye pulls away from the retina and creates this strange floater. Apparently most people get this at some point in their later years and it rarely leads to anything more serious and usually settles down fairly quickly. I just have to put up with this floater until it does so.
I know I’m no longer young, but this feels like a harsh prod with a pointed stick to point out that my body is beginning to get old even if my mind doesn’t feel like it is.
Beyond the personal reminder that I must look after myself better, I’m also fully aware of the importance the NHS plays in all our lives and how much worse off we’d all be if it were gone. Which makes me angry that the Tories and their cronies are doing their best to destroy it and our lifeline to a healthy future.
I dread to think what I would have done if there was no NHS and my eye condition had been more serious than it is.