Joe’s Ocular Odyssey

In the early fall I noticed bright, vertical shafts of light when I looked far to my right or left. I turn this way when backing up my truck or changing lanes on the highway. It was most noticeable at night but I confirmed that the light was there during the daytime by doing this in a darkened room.

I mentioned it to my Internist. I had suffered something different, but still along the lines of fuzzy lights in one eye, just before my stroke. I was nervous that these lights might be the harbinger of something similar.

The Internist said I should see an Ophthalmologist and his office gave me the name of a local practice. I called and explained the situation. They arranged an appointment for about a month later. Meanwhile, I suppose, I could just buck up.

The day arrived, the appointment was kept, my eyes were dutifully dilated and the Ophthalmologist said it sounded like blocked carotid arteries to her. She thought my eyes seemed fine “for my age”. I put my sunglasses on and drove to work without truly seeing a single thing clearly.

I reported back to the Internist who arranged for an ultrasound of the carotid arteries several weeks later at the local hospital. The day came, the appointment was kept, my neck was greased up and the images taken. A week or so later I was informed that one side was clear and one side was 70% blocked, which I already knew, but that was not nearly enough to cause the lights or to worry about. The Internist suggested I see a Neurologist and recommended a practice.

I called and an appointment was arranged for several months later. Neurologists, even Russian Neurologists, were obviously busy people. In the meantime, I needed to have an MRI of my head so I arranged for that. Our local hospital has an MRI machine in a rusting tractor trailer hard up against one side of their otherwise immaculate and modern building. I swear, it looks like it arrived in that truck and no one bothered to move it into the hospital proper for fear that they might not be able to escape fast enough should that be necessary.

MRIs take place when you are inserted, lying on your back, in long, rather narrow tubes of solid plastic. You should not be claustrophobic to do this successfully. I closed my eyes and went to my “happy place”. I listened to generic public radio from their subscription radio system. When the banging stopped I was asked if someone was there to drive me home and I said, “Of course. The girlfriend is waiting at the main entrance”. Thank god for the mythical “girlfriend”. I drove back to work.

I arrived at the appointment with the Neurologist. She said she had no idea why I saw the lights. My MRI showed my brain was pretty good “for my age” except for one little blockage that might explain my erratic behavior but had nothing to do with my lights.

She suggested I have two more MRIs. One of my head and one of my neck with contrast. She also suggested I see a specialist, an Ophtha-neurologist. On leaving, the Neurologist’s office lady said both tests would be arranged once my health insurance agreed to pay for them

Two weeks later the health insurer agreed and the tests were scheduled a week after that. I went, eyes closed, this time with an intravenous line so “contrast” could be injected. My marvelous “girlfriend” picked me up again and I drove back to work.

The Neurologist called on Friday and left a voice message suggesting there was nothing to worry about. But what, I wanted to ask, what about the bloody lights!

On Monday I went to the specialist with a DVD of my latest MRIs. When I finally got in the office, I handed it to him. “I don’t read MRIs”, he said. “I can’t imagine why they suggested you bring it.” I told him that I thought the report on the MRIs was included. Reluctantly, he took the disk and put it in his ancient computer attached to the largest cathode ray tube monitor I have seen since the deluge. It whirred and clacked and brought up the report.

He examined my dilated eyes. The trouble with problems like the lights I was currently experiencing, he said, was that I was unlikely to drop dead from the condition any time soon. Since, in his opinion, a thorough autopsy would be needed to accurately pinpoint just why I was seeing lights, he probably couldn’t tell me. Talk about bedside manner!

After the exam, he told me that his best guess was that the “viscous matter” in my eyes has shriveled up, much like a raison. When I turn to the right, my now shriveled viscous matter tries to go that way and pulls on the retina, causing the lights! Nothing to worry about; nothing to be done. Perhaps it will get better over time but that’s just a thought. In the meantime, should I drive at night, perhaps I should only go “straight ahead”!