Archives for October 2008

Note to self: Before you essay to drive an automobile, master the art of shaving the right side of your face and neck without slitting your throat.

We returned to Lubbock Wednesday night, and Thursday was pretty much devoted to doctor visits / phone calls and dealing with an apparent reaction to medicine. Medicine changed, we were able to enjoy the weekend, including taking two grandchildren to see Beverly Hills Chihuahua. I even got into the office for a couple hours on Saturday.

As a result of the weekend “exercises,” I am beginning to understand more thoroughly the vision adjustment issues. In this regard, the movie was physiologically painful. I’ve had more than a few depth perception issues, but most disorienting is the brain’s persistence in and insistence upon superimposing the image from the right eye (blank) over the image from the left eye. This is especially disconcerting when moving from a brightly lighted setting to a dim one.

Dr. Allison said it takes “about two months” to fully adjust, and likened the phenomenon to the phantom pain amputees feel from a severed limb. The good news is that the phantom images do go away. So I am trying to be patient, and continue to be humbled by expressions of care, prayer and compassion from many quarters.

Megan (Dr. Gambos’ PA) removed the bandages Wednesday with a special flourish as she came down to my neck, where there now was a week’s beard under the adhesive. OUCH! She said I looked “good” and then did a little eye tracking exercise with me. Megan showed Nancy the ointment routine we would be doing for the next few weeks.

After a little bit of clean-up, Megan asked me to look in the mirror — with my eyes open. The right eye is pretty much swollen shut. She and Suzanne decided I was ready for Dr. Gombos.

Dr. Gombos asked how it felt to have the bandages off, and I replied, “good.” Then he also opinied that I looked “good”and asked if I was feeling any pain. I started with the sense of pressure I felt “all around” which I attributed to swelling. He retorted that I had hardly any swelling — much less than normal, but I did have a little more “droop” than normal.

After that rebuff, I debated internally whether to tell him about the stinging and itching I was feeling or about the shot I felt when I looked up during the eye tracking exercise. I told him about looking up. He said “uh huh.” So I went for the gusto and told him about the stinging and itching. He asked if I was still taking the Tylenol and codeine.

When I answered “no” to that one, he nodded and then answered,”That’s probably stitches. Over time, they will all dissolve and you’ll get over the pain.” He repeated some of the things that Megan and Suzanne had gone through earlier and asked the ladies if I had all the proper medications.

With an affirmative response, he intoned a wonderfully sweet phrase, “then I will see you in a month.” Gombos extended his hand, which I shook. Suzanne and Megan got hugs, and Nancy and I were headed toward the A Elevator.

There’s some follow-up to be done in Lubbock, ongoing treatments, convalescence and some adjusting I have to do. But we have closed the door on the operation part of this journey. We are now charting course for three ports on the follow-up leg of the voyage and looking forward to some shore leave at home.