Ah, if day #1 was the worse for having strabismus surgery, day #6 was the second worse. By now I'm feeling no pain, yet the itching in my eye is downright terrible. The worse part about the itching is it feels as though there are little bugs in there trying to get at my brain through my eyeball.
Although I saw my doctor today and he insisted the surgery was a success. My vision is still blurred in my right eye, but he insists as the inflammation goes down the itching will subside and my vision will be good as ever. His optimism was repeated by the eye muscle specialist.
So instead of having me use antibiotic eye drops, from now on it's prednisolone eye drops. Yes, good old steroids work to reduce inflammation just about anywhere in the body, and for me not only do I take inhaled steroids, it's eye steroids too. Only for the case of my eyes, it's only temporary.
After the 3 hour round trip to my opthamologist's office my eye was so itchy I had to start rubbing my left eye just so I could rub something. That's probably the worse part about having an itchy eye post strabismus surgery is you can't touch the eye. I also have allergies, so that probably doesn't help either.
So there really isn't much you can do for itchy eye. My doctor said the steroids should help, although it will probably take a day or two. We often say in the medical field things can seem to get worse before they get better, and day #6 post strabismus surgery might just be that "worse" they are talking about.
From here on out I'm expecting a downhill ride. The irritation was so bad that I couldn't think, so I popped a couple vicodin pills I had left over hoping it would at least allow me to get through the rest of the day. I'd say it worked.
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
Tuesday, July 06, 2010
The strabismus surgery is worth it
Our Journey With Stabismus is a blog that journey's the tale of one family willing to do whatever it takes to help their child with strabismus, the esotropia type, that is his eyes, or at least one of them, are facing in. While I have the exotropia type, one of my eyes faces outward while I'm focusing with the other, I can relate that stabismus can provide some challenges.
For one thing, you can't focus really well. And when the sun is bright you have to close the eye that wants to drift up toward the sun. And sometimes when you come around corners your brain has a hard time deciding what eye to use, and the object you are looking for seems to bob back and forth. You have to stop, close one eye and focus in order to see it.
It can also make you see double at times, especially when you're tired. When you're tired your eyes wander even more; or they become lazy. So, you can see how getting stabismus fixed can really help a person. It will help put you on equal footing with other people. It may help you hit a baseball better, and make it easier to see a football, or the other player once as opposed to twice. And it will probably make you a better learner, as you'll be able to focus on the page
better.
I've always been able to read, but I'm not really fast at it. I remember my teachers putting me in a special class for reading when I was a kid, although I bet the real problem that my teachers, doctors and parents never figured out was that the real problem was probably strabismus.
So yes, despite the discomfort, and despite the nausea, and despite the fact that parents have to sacrifice several days to coddle their post operative child, the benefits of this surgery far outweight the disadvantages. And, despite a less than 5% chance of going blind in the eye if an infeciton occurs, the side effects are relatively rare.
I had the surgery when I was 2, 10, 15 and just two days ago at 40. So I’ve gone through the procedure at all stages of development, and I can honestly say it is well worth it. From the patient end, I can say it does feel kind of funny after someone pokes your eye, and there’s always that urge to rub it.
I remember being bothered by this when I was 10, which is why I had to be watched 24 hours afterwords back then. Of course today it’s an outpatient procedure, yet back in 1980 it wasn’t. Or maybe that was just because I was a kid. Well, the last strabismus surgery lasted 25 years for me, so hopefully your son’s procedure can last that long or, better yet, longer. I figure if mine lasts another 25 years I’ll be good to go.
My doctor told my wife as soon as I had the patch off it might seem to me he overcorrected, and that I still have strabismus, but he believes it will correct itself over time. Basically, your brain needs time to make the adjustment.
For one thing, you can't focus really well. And when the sun is bright you have to close the eye that wants to drift up toward the sun. And sometimes when you come around corners your brain has a hard time deciding what eye to use, and the object you are looking for seems to bob back and forth. You have to stop, close one eye and focus in order to see it.
It can also make you see double at times, especially when you're tired. When you're tired your eyes wander even more; or they become lazy. So, you can see how getting stabismus fixed can really help a person. It will help put you on equal footing with other people. It may help you hit a baseball better, and make it easier to see a football, or the other player once as opposed to twice. And it will probably make you a better learner, as you'll be able to focus on the page
better.
I've always been able to read, but I'm not really fast at it. I remember my teachers putting me in a special class for reading when I was a kid, although I bet the real problem that my teachers, doctors and parents never figured out was that the real problem was probably strabismus.
So yes, despite the discomfort, and despite the nausea, and despite the fact that parents have to sacrifice several days to coddle their post operative child, the benefits of this surgery far outweight the disadvantages. And, despite a less than 5% chance of going blind in the eye if an infeciton occurs, the side effects are relatively rare.
I had the surgery when I was 2, 10, 15 and just two days ago at 40. So I’ve gone through the procedure at all stages of development, and I can honestly say it is well worth it. From the patient end, I can say it does feel kind of funny after someone pokes your eye, and there’s always that urge to rub it.
I remember being bothered by this when I was 10, which is why I had to be watched 24 hours afterwords back then. Of course today it’s an outpatient procedure, yet back in 1980 it wasn’t. Or maybe that was just because I was a kid. Well, the last strabismus surgery lasted 25 years for me, so hopefully your son’s procedure can last that long or, better yet, longer. I figure if mine lasts another 25 years I’ll be good to go.
My doctor told my wife as soon as I had the patch off it might seem to me he overcorrected, and that I still have strabismus, but he believes it will correct itself over time. Basically, your brain needs time to make the adjustment.
Monday, July 05, 2010
Pyrotechnics and asthma
As I was lying in the cool grass, a warm breeze crossed with smoke wafted over my shoulders and into the face of my Laney, a warning flashed through my head redolent with the snap, crackle, pop, fizz of the amateur pyrotechnics shows nearly at every angle around us.
Taking my eyes off Laney, and ignoring the chants of my wife and the discordant din of a thousand other voices, I turned to see what was going on around me, and noticed a thick, white cloud was covering the park. In the diminishing light, and peering through my sunglasses I was wearing to prevent Laney from poking my bad eye, the shadow of folks and the lights from each encampment made me think of a civil war camp surrounded by enemy fire. While the "enemy fire" during the Civil War, or the Revolutionary War was real, the enemy fire in the case of July 4, 2010, was the billowing remains of all the amateurs. Man, I couldn't believe how much smoke there was. And it wasn't going away anytime soon.
It was actually illegal to light armature pyrotechnics on the beach, or in the park, or near the playgrounds, or near the condominiums that lined the skyline behind me and to the East (a calm Lake Michigan sat to the West on this 87 degree, hot and humid evening), it was not even remotely possible for this to be enforced.
Moments later, when the real fire works show started, you could hear the bang of the bombs echo as they seemed to bounce off the condominiums. It was almost as though you could see the initial firework, followed by a bang, and then you'd hear the bang echo, and then you'd hear it again, moments later, as it seemed to ricochet off those condominiums.
So, while the other folks were busy entertaining their minds with the light show, or trying to aim Laney in that direction (as her mind was amazed by the light show yet easily sidetracked), I was busy looking around, and enjoying the noise and the smoke. Quite frankly, other than me, or other than the few who have a visual head and a love for history and no need to see any more fireworks, I doubt there were many who let their mind wander in such a fashion -- as they breathed in a puff of stale, humid, smokey air.
Hence, one could only have empathy for any asthmatics who might have been fighting in the wars of our past, where such encampments were common place, and the bangs, and the smoke. To avoid it would be nearly impossible. To avoid the humidity in days of old would have been impossible as well. So one could see, or at least this humble asthmatic, that war would also be a place for an asthmatic to avoid -- as well as the public pyrotechnics displays.
Today, yes today, this asthmatic and all those around me, would get up and wander to their cars, and slowly drive off, or walk away (as was the case with my family) to their cars where they would turn on the air conditioning and enjoy the fresh, cool air. And then they would go home and sleep in the comforts of their own cozy beds.
Now keep in mind none of the smoke was from the professionally set fireworks but from armatures . And the smoke didn't really bother my asthma, as mine is really well controlled. Although I can remember times in the past where there was poor asthma control, and the inevitable trip to the ER soon followed. I wondered how many asthmatics would be making such a trip this evening.
Taking my eyes off Laney, and ignoring the chants of my wife and the discordant din of a thousand other voices, I turned to see what was going on around me, and noticed a thick, white cloud was covering the park. In the diminishing light, and peering through my sunglasses I was wearing to prevent Laney from poking my bad eye, the shadow of folks and the lights from each encampment made me think of a civil war camp surrounded by enemy fire. While the "enemy fire" during the Civil War, or the Revolutionary War was real, the enemy fire in the case of July 4, 2010, was the billowing remains of all the amateurs. Man, I couldn't believe how much smoke there was. And it wasn't going away anytime soon.
It was actually illegal to light armature pyrotechnics on the beach, or in the park, or near the playgrounds, or near the condominiums that lined the skyline behind me and to the East (a calm Lake Michigan sat to the West on this 87 degree, hot and humid evening), it was not even remotely possible for this to be enforced.
Moments later, when the real fire works show started, you could hear the bang of the bombs echo as they seemed to bounce off the condominiums. It was almost as though you could see the initial firework, followed by a bang, and then you'd hear the bang echo, and then you'd hear it again, moments later, as it seemed to ricochet off those condominiums.
So, while the other folks were busy entertaining their minds with the light show, or trying to aim Laney in that direction (as her mind was amazed by the light show yet easily sidetracked), I was busy looking around, and enjoying the noise and the smoke. Quite frankly, other than me, or other than the few who have a visual head and a love for history and no need to see any more fireworks, I doubt there were many who let their mind wander in such a fashion -- as they breathed in a puff of stale, humid, smokey air.
Hence, one could only have empathy for any asthmatics who might have been fighting in the wars of our past, where such encampments were common place, and the bangs, and the smoke. To avoid it would be nearly impossible. To avoid the humidity in days of old would have been impossible as well. So one could see, or at least this humble asthmatic, that war would also be a place for an asthmatic to avoid -- as well as the public pyrotechnics displays.
Today, yes today, this asthmatic and all those around me, would get up and wander to their cars, and slowly drive off, or walk away (as was the case with my family) to their cars where they would turn on the air conditioning and enjoy the fresh, cool air. And then they would go home and sleep in the comforts of their own cozy beds.
Now keep in mind none of the smoke was from the professionally set fireworks but from armatures . And the smoke didn't really bother my asthma, as mine is really well controlled. Although I can remember times in the past where there was poor asthma control, and the inevitable trip to the ER soon followed. I wondered how many asthmatics would be making such a trip this evening.
Saturday, July 03, 2010
Stabismus surgery day #4
To peel the eye open in the morning it still takes a warm, wet cloth placed over the eye for about 15 minutes, followed by an eye drop properly inserted into the corner of the eye by my wife while lying in a supine position in the recliner.
However, despite that slow start, this was the first day I was actually able to keep my right eye open all day. I was actually back to my normal, dry humorous self as my wife and I ventured to my parent's to meet my brother who so happened to come up all the way from Detroit.
Today was also the first day I didn't need to take Vicoden to take the edge of the pain off, although my wife did make me take 800 mg of Motrin to reduce some of the inflammation. So, when my dad offered me a Natural Light I so humbly, and graciously agreed to take it.
And after that was gone, two more followed. Since I didn't eat much at that point in the day, the alcohol seemed to hit me hard, and it was there I realized that I got better relief from alcohol than from the Vicoden. I was thinking I should have just stayed drunk and I would have been fine throughout this whole process (of eye surgery).
Yet the down side to alcohol is you drink too much of it your system dries out, and a dry eye is not what I want right now. So I limited myself to the three Natty lights. Although they were among three of the best beers I've had in a long while.
The warm breeze from the southwest was absolutely beautiful to go along with the beautiful son on a clear blue day. And the social company of my brother and father was really nice. It was nice just to get out of the house for a change. It was nice to have my eye feeling good enough to WANT to get out of the house for a change. Hopefully I'll feel even better tomorrow.
My daughter is 20 months, and my brother's daughter is 12 months, and yet my brother's daughter is larger than my own -- although each equally cute. It was neat to watch them play together. While they had selfish goals on this day, I bet soon they will become good friends.
The biggest obstacle was keeping the wind from irritating my eye. Rather, the biggest obstacle was keeping my baby from poking out my eye. And for this the sunglasses came in handy. I also think it was the sunglasses that made me able to keep my eye open outside where the sun was shining brightly overhead. Yet by the tree, the shade and the breeze felt great.
Yet after a couple hours of socializing ache rushed into my head, and it was time to go back home. My eye is still blood shot red, and my wife noted that it looks as though my eye muscles are sitting atop the eye. Then she added, "But it looks better today." That's reassuring, I guess.
It was nice to make it through a day with both my eyes open, although my right eye still feels kind of prickly. It almost seems like it's been a lot of work keeping it open, and thus this seems to make me tire easily. Actually, I think what makes me tire easily is that I can't focus really well yet. I can't look left without my right eye watering or hurting. And I can't look right. So, as my wife noted earlier, I walk around without craning my neck: like a robot.
So I hope my kids are worn out soon, because this humble RT is ready for bed.
First, however, my wife must return with the gallon of Vanilla Ice Cream. This dad has a priority, and ice cream is #1 on that list. Ice cream, and then it's time for bed. The neighbors might offer me a beer, yet I might be forced to forgo it one more night.
However, despite that slow start, this was the first day I was actually able to keep my right eye open all day. I was actually back to my normal, dry humorous self as my wife and I ventured to my parent's to meet my brother who so happened to come up all the way from Detroit.
Today was also the first day I didn't need to take Vicoden to take the edge of the pain off, although my wife did make me take 800 mg of Motrin to reduce some of the inflammation. So, when my dad offered me a Natural Light I so humbly, and graciously agreed to take it.
And after that was gone, two more followed. Since I didn't eat much at that point in the day, the alcohol seemed to hit me hard, and it was there I realized that I got better relief from alcohol than from the Vicoden. I was thinking I should have just stayed drunk and I would have been fine throughout this whole process (of eye surgery).
Yet the down side to alcohol is you drink too much of it your system dries out, and a dry eye is not what I want right now. So I limited myself to the three Natty lights. Although they were among three of the best beers I've had in a long while.
The warm breeze from the southwest was absolutely beautiful to go along with the beautiful son on a clear blue day. And the social company of my brother and father was really nice. It was nice just to get out of the house for a change. It was nice to have my eye feeling good enough to WANT to get out of the house for a change. Hopefully I'll feel even better tomorrow.
My daughter is 20 months, and my brother's daughter is 12 months, and yet my brother's daughter is larger than my own -- although each equally cute. It was neat to watch them play together. While they had selfish goals on this day, I bet soon they will become good friends.
The biggest obstacle was keeping the wind from irritating my eye. Rather, the biggest obstacle was keeping my baby from poking out my eye. And for this the sunglasses came in handy. I also think it was the sunglasses that made me able to keep my eye open outside where the sun was shining brightly overhead. Yet by the tree, the shade and the breeze felt great.
Yet after a couple hours of socializing ache rushed into my head, and it was time to go back home. My eye is still blood shot red, and my wife noted that it looks as though my eye muscles are sitting atop the eye. Then she added, "But it looks better today." That's reassuring, I guess.
It was nice to make it through a day with both my eyes open, although my right eye still feels kind of prickly. It almost seems like it's been a lot of work keeping it open, and thus this seems to make me tire easily. Actually, I think what makes me tire easily is that I can't focus really well yet. I can't look left without my right eye watering or hurting. And I can't look right. So, as my wife noted earlier, I walk around without craning my neck: like a robot.
So I hope my kids are worn out soon, because this humble RT is ready for bed.
First, however, my wife must return with the gallon of Vanilla Ice Cream. This dad has a priority, and ice cream is #1 on that list. Ice cream, and then it's time for bed. The neighbors might offer me a beer, yet I might be forced to forgo it one more night.
Strabismus surgery day #3
Day #3 post strabismus surgery was a bit of a challenge upon waking because it seemed my eyelids were glued shut. A warm washcloth over the eye for quite a while, and some eye drops, and it did open. Although it was easier to keep it shut for the most part.
Once I got it open I was looking in the mirror. I got my first good look at my right eye. It appeared blood red and it also had some spots on it, which I supposed were dried blood. My wife said it was just bloodshot, and it was find. Considering she's a nurse, I took her word for it.
I didn't feel any general pain in my head as I did the past few days after anesthesia, so instead of that type of pain I could feel the eyeball itself. There was a slight ache that seemed to go away with one Valium as opposed to two. Two Valium has a tendency to wipe you out, and so I tried to only take one at a time today.
The problem with day #3 is I actually feel like I want to get back into the normal flow of my life, and yet I'm not supposed to. I'm supposed to be taking it easy still, and I'm not supposed to be lifting anything over 14 pounds (although I forgot last night when I tucked my 50 plus pound 7 year old in).
I got out of the house for the first time today, with sunglasses of course. This might sound like no big deal to anyone who didn't have strabismus surgery, but as I was out of the house with the glasses on I observed I was walking around wincing with both eyes open. That was a minor personal celebration.
As I'm typing this right now I have both eyes open, although I feel blind on either side. I can't look left with my good eye because it puts strain on my bad eye. And I can't look right with my bad eye for obvious reasons. So, for those moms and dads out there of kids having this surgery, it's good to know your child can only see what is right in front of him. I suppose that's how most kids look anyway, yet I figure it's worth noting.
So day #3 was sort of an awakening of sorts. It kind of reminds me of when I was in the hospital because of asthma, and yet my asthma felt better, and I still had to stay in the hospital because I needed to be weaned off steroids. You feel good, but you still can't do anything. You almost feel like bouncing off the walls.
I would love to get back to my workout. I feel like running, although I bet my bad eye probably would frown at sweat at this point. And I'd love to hit the weights, yet I certainly wouldn't want the pressure to cause my stitches to pop out. So I'm stuck sitting around. And sitting around makes me yearn for the Popsicles and ice cream sandwiches my mom bought me. Yes, I ate almost the whole box between yesterday and today.
Another thing I missed out on today was my daughters last t-ball game of the year. I skipped it because the park where the game is held is a dirt field, and considering there's a warm breeze this evening I didn't want dust in my eye. Thus, I skipped it.
I'm able to do simple things, like watching my kids and writing. Although I do find myself wincing quite a bit as I'm reading. Typing is easy because I don't really need to see what I type. So if you find a few errors in this post, you know why.
So, I suppose I better get back to watching my 1 YO who's running around nakey right now. She loves running around nakey. Now she's in the bathroom on the "step" (stool) and saying "tee", which is baby for "I want to brush my teeth."
So, see you later. Tomorrow I'm going to try not to take any vicoden because while it does take the edge off the eye irritation, it makes me tired. I can't stand being sleepy all the time. And, this kind of makes me think of all the people addicted to opiates. While it does take the edge off, I'm not sure I could stand feeling tired all the time. Yes it does have it's advantages, yet the disadvantages are there too. So, I bet I wouldn't be a good candidate to become addicted to this kind of stuff. Yet I could be wrong too. I'm feeling pretty loopy as I write this.
And my son just told me my right eye is looking in instead of out. Yet, thankfully, my doctor said this might happen for a while until my eye adjusts.
Anyway, more tomorrow from your humble RT.
Once I got it open I was looking in the mirror. I got my first good look at my right eye. It appeared blood red and it also had some spots on it, which I supposed were dried blood. My wife said it was just bloodshot, and it was find. Considering she's a nurse, I took her word for it.
I didn't feel any general pain in my head as I did the past few days after anesthesia, so instead of that type of pain I could feel the eyeball itself. There was a slight ache that seemed to go away with one Valium as opposed to two. Two Valium has a tendency to wipe you out, and so I tried to only take one at a time today.
The problem with day #3 is I actually feel like I want to get back into the normal flow of my life, and yet I'm not supposed to. I'm supposed to be taking it easy still, and I'm not supposed to be lifting anything over 14 pounds (although I forgot last night when I tucked my 50 plus pound 7 year old in).
I got out of the house for the first time today, with sunglasses of course. This might sound like no big deal to anyone who didn't have strabismus surgery, but as I was out of the house with the glasses on I observed I was walking around wincing with both eyes open. That was a minor personal celebration.
As I'm typing this right now I have both eyes open, although I feel blind on either side. I can't look left with my good eye because it puts strain on my bad eye. And I can't look right with my bad eye for obvious reasons. So, for those moms and dads out there of kids having this surgery, it's good to know your child can only see what is right in front of him. I suppose that's how most kids look anyway, yet I figure it's worth noting.
So day #3 was sort of an awakening of sorts. It kind of reminds me of when I was in the hospital because of asthma, and yet my asthma felt better, and I still had to stay in the hospital because I needed to be weaned off steroids. You feel good, but you still can't do anything. You almost feel like bouncing off the walls.
I would love to get back to my workout. I feel like running, although I bet my bad eye probably would frown at sweat at this point. And I'd love to hit the weights, yet I certainly wouldn't want the pressure to cause my stitches to pop out. So I'm stuck sitting around. And sitting around makes me yearn for the Popsicles and ice cream sandwiches my mom bought me. Yes, I ate almost the whole box between yesterday and today.
Another thing I missed out on today was my daughters last t-ball game of the year. I skipped it because the park where the game is held is a dirt field, and considering there's a warm breeze this evening I didn't want dust in my eye. Thus, I skipped it.
I'm able to do simple things, like watching my kids and writing. Although I do find myself wincing quite a bit as I'm reading. Typing is easy because I don't really need to see what I type. So if you find a few errors in this post, you know why.
So, I suppose I better get back to watching my 1 YO who's running around nakey right now. She loves running around nakey. Now she's in the bathroom on the "step" (stool) and saying "tee", which is baby for "I want to brush my teeth."
So, see you later. Tomorrow I'm going to try not to take any vicoden because while it does take the edge off the eye irritation, it makes me tired. I can't stand being sleepy all the time. And, this kind of makes me think of all the people addicted to opiates. While it does take the edge off, I'm not sure I could stand feeling tired all the time. Yes it does have it's advantages, yet the disadvantages are there too. So, I bet I wouldn't be a good candidate to become addicted to this kind of stuff. Yet I could be wrong too. I'm feeling pretty loopy as I write this.
And my son just told me my right eye is looking in instead of out. Yet, thankfully, my doctor said this might happen for a while until my eye adjusts.
Anyway, more tomorrow from your humble RT.
Friday, July 02, 2010
Strabismus: day #2
For those of you thinking about having strabismus surgery in the future, I just want you to know that while you'll probably want to lie around with your eyes shut the day of your surgery, day #2 is much better.
I actually woke up this morning feeling normal, except for a slight itch in my right eye. Actually,most of the itch was gone once I finally took the patch off.
I still had a slight headache for a while this morning, although 1 vicoden took care of that. Basically I've taken one vicoden every 4-6 hours today just to make sure my headache from last night, the one that felt like my head was going to implode or explode, from coming back. I don't know if I can handle that kind of headache again.
The neat thing was as soon as I took the patch off, and picked the yellow crusties out, or at least as many as I dared to try, my eyed popped open and I can see quite well. I still do have to do quite a bit of squinting, and I have my operated on eye shut much of the time (especially when I'm exposed to bright light) I can actually get around quite well.
Yet due to the vicoden, I am still a little woozy. Of course that could also be because I've spent the better part of the past 2 days sitting and lying around.
I have actually gotten quite a bit of writing done today. The computer screen must not be to bad for me to tolerate. Although I can see the words, they are still blurry, even if I look through my good eye.
So while I have a ways to go yet to get back to normal, I'm feeling overall quite good. I've been able to play with my kids a little, although it's a bit of a job to discipline them. So I've left that to the wifey poo.
So, day #2, so far, a good day. Although I have my fingers crossed it stays this way, as I can feel that monster in my head -- just barely.
I actually woke up this morning feeling normal, except for a slight itch in my right eye. Actually,most of the itch was gone once I finally took the patch off.
I still had a slight headache for a while this morning, although 1 vicoden took care of that. Basically I've taken one vicoden every 4-6 hours today just to make sure my headache from last night, the one that felt like my head was going to implode or explode, from coming back. I don't know if I can handle that kind of headache again.
The neat thing was as soon as I took the patch off, and picked the yellow crusties out, or at least as many as I dared to try, my eyed popped open and I can see quite well. I still do have to do quite a bit of squinting, and I have my operated on eye shut much of the time (especially when I'm exposed to bright light) I can actually get around quite well.
Yet due to the vicoden, I am still a little woozy. Of course that could also be because I've spent the better part of the past 2 days sitting and lying around.
I have actually gotten quite a bit of writing done today. The computer screen must not be to bad for me to tolerate. Although I can see the words, they are still blurry, even if I look through my good eye.
So while I have a ways to go yet to get back to normal, I'm feeling overall quite good. I've been able to play with my kids a little, although it's a bit of a job to discipline them. So I've left that to the wifey poo.
So, day #2, so far, a good day. Although I have my fingers crossed it stays this way, as I can feel that monster in my head -- just barely.
Thursday, July 01, 2010
The strabismus surgery
The brain brain aneurysm started about 6:30 p.m., about 5:45 minutes after I woke up from the anesthesia in the recovery room. It felt as though a though there was an oxygen cylinder in my head and it was slowly leaking, causing my head to expand. The accompanying nausea made it worse, and forced me to toss and turn on the couch.
My 11-year-old son had a baseball game and my wife was just about ready to leave, and I made sure she gave me a couple more Vicodin before she left. I knew I just too 2 four hours ago, but the directions said every 4-6 hours as needed (PRN) and I was going to take advantage of it. She also gave me a phenergin pill for the nausea.
About 15 minutes earlier Crystal woke me from a nice 2 hour nap, which to me is not normal unless I worked the night before. I usually don't take naps because when I do I don't sleep at night when I'm supposed to. Yet today that surgery, and the effects of the anesthesia, was my excuse to snooze. She probably wouldn't have awakened me, but I said she could if KK, my 7-year old girl, wanted to stay in the neighborhood and play with the neighbor girl.
So here I was lying on the couch listening to the accustomed sounds of sub division: the yelling, the crunch of plastic bike wheels on pavement, the occasional slamming of a door, the occasional bark of a dog, and the whooshing of cars. And now that my wife was gone, and the house empty, my head was ready to explode.
The ironic thing was that while my right eye felt a little prickly and a tad bit itchy under the patch, I really didn't feel any pain there. The pain was the rest of the head. While the cause might have been the eye, I had a distinct feeling I was having a major hangover from the wearing out of the anesthesia. I lied on the couch, mostly on my left side so I didn't put pressure on my right eye, and placed a shirt over my head to block out light. Yet I just couldn't get comfortable.
It hurt so bad I couldn't snooze. I wanted so bad to get up and take another Vicodin, yet I didn't think I should -- or at least a phenergin.
My daughter came in about 8:00 as she was instructed, and I told her to take a shower and get ready for bed. Also said, "You have to stay inside and help me. Remember," I said, my voice barely audible as my mouth was dry as a cotton ball and my throat a bit raw from the intubation, "A few days earlier when you were sick I stayed up all night with you. Here's your chance to spoil your daddy."
"But daddy," she said, "I want to play with Alisha. He bed time is 8:30, so I'll come back then. Under normal circumstances this would not stand, yet these were not normal circumstances.
"Well, go ahead then!"
An hour passed and KK did not return. I wanted my wife, my own personal nurse, home. You know how us guys are when we're not feeling well: we like to be coddled. Yet what I really wanted was for her to come home and say it was okay to take another Vicoden.
The door opened. It was Crystal, "Well, Lany never stopped crying the whole first two innings. I felt bad for Jordan because I couldn't watch the game, I had to breast feed instead. So I figured I might as well come home."
"Why was she crying?" It was a rhetorical question
"Well, she didnt' get a nap today."
I think the real reason Laney was because babies have telepathy, and my Laney new I had a headache. After Crystal left and came back from picking up the boy, I strolled right to bed thinking I'd fall asleep. That never happened.
At 11:00 p.m. my personal nurse came in with some vicoden and a cup of water. She slipped in next to be and started rubbing my back.
"I never heard the kids come in," I said.
"That's because I told them to be quiet."
"That's rare that they listen," I said. It shows they can be good when they choose, I wanted to say, yet the words were stuckf floating among the air billowing around in my brain.
I arrived at the surgery center before my scheduled time of 9:30 A.M. and was immediately in with someone answering questions. Unlike our own hospital, they didn't ask me the same questions I was asked over the phone two days earlier. That was nice. And five minutes later my wife and I were lead to a recliner in the surgery preparation room by a young lady carrying a clipboard who said she was my helper. I do not remember her name.
She set the clipboard on the counter top to my right, and gave me a gown and told me to take everything off except my undies and "put on this gown." She left and I did as instructed. When she returned she picked up the clipboard and said, "So, it says here your RIGHT eye is being operated on. Is that right?"
She left and moments later a nurse's aid whose name I don't recall came in. The first thing she said was, looking at my wife, "Wow! When are we due?" After a brief chat she asked me tons of questions, ending with, "So, we are operating on your right eye?"
She took my blood pressure: it was 155/88, high for your humble RT. She took my blood pressure: 78, high for your humble RT, although in normal range.
Then anesthesiologist #1 came in to ask a few more questions. I don't remember her name either. She looked in my mouth, and I said, "Is this an LMA mouth or an ETT mouth?"
She said, "I'm not going to be taking care of you in surgery. Another anesthesiologist will do that. I'm just checking. "It says here you are going to have surgery on your right eye. Are you in agreement with that?"
A nurse came in next, and the first thing she said was, "When's the baby due?" Once again this set off a nice discussion, and it ensued until she was ready to insert my IV. "I'd rather have an ABG than an IV," I said.
"Really? I'd think ABGs would hurt worse," she said.
"I had an IV put in at the same time an ABG was being performed once," I said, "and I never even felt the ABG."
"We are operating on your right eye, right?"
Moments later anesthesioligist #2 came in. "We are operating on your right eye. Am I correct," she asked. He looked at my mouth. When I was finished, I said, "Are you going to use an ETT or an LMA?" She smiled in a way that indicated it was a question she never expected from a patient.
The doctor was next. "Are you in agreement we chose to operate on your right eye?" I agreed, and he took a black marker and marked over my right eye.
Another nurse came in. "I'll be your nurse during the procedure. We are operating on your right eye, right?"
"Just think right," I said.
Finally I was alone with my wife. White coat fever in full force, and my vitals proved it.
I walked to the cool operating room, and the doctor was sitting at the back of a bed all smiles. I do remember his name. There were 5 or so other's in the room. I hopped on the bed, was covered with a few warm blankets, and the anesthesiologist placed a mask a few inches above my head, "It's just oxygen," she said.
"Do you ever use gas to knock people out anymore," I asked, "or just IV stuff?
"We only use gas on kids."
"I remember that. In fact, I think that's what made my pukey after I woke up."
"You had this before?"
"Yes." I could feel the tingling now. I figured I'd be going out pretty soon. I would keep taking until I was out, which is out of character for me because I'm usually taciturn.
"And you have experience with nausea?"
"Yes."
"Have you ever had another surgery before. One not on your eye."
"Yes. I had this one three other times, and I remember being sick all three times. And in 1993 I had nasal septal repair. I did not get sick." My voice was starting to echo in my head. The medicine was working.
"Did you wake up nauseous for that one
"No."
"That's because for some reason when we operate on eyes and scrotums people tend to get nauseous."
I could hear my wife saying, "Don't say that to him." She wants me to get the big V.
That's my last thought before waking up. The blood pressure cuff was going off. I could feel the prick of my right eye. "What's the pain level," she asked. He name was Kathleen. I remember it, but only because I asked her 3 times.
"About an 8." It was purely subjective. I couldn't say 10, because to me 10 is so bad you can't sit still and scream. In fact, if you go by that measure, I was probably a five. Yet I didn't want her to be conservative with the medicine.
I could feel the blood pressure cuff squeezing my left arm again. When it was done I asked, "What was it?"
"Diastolic 100. The doctor said your young enough I can give you labatolol." She did, and the next time the cuff went off she said my blood pressure was 108/58. She said that was good, but to me it was low. I could really feel the tingling in my blood at that point, and as I tried to speak my words were drifting off.
"How long do I have to stay in this room." I was asking too many questions, although I was feeling great, like warm and tingly great. I could feel myself drifting off.
"Just until we have your blood pressure under control. I think it has to do with pain, so we have to get that under control."
"Take a deep breath," she said. Her voice coming from the distance. "Your sat is only 88."
I did, yet she repeated herself, "I need you to take in a deep breath. You probably know all about that."
I did. And I know that taking in a deep breath will only increase a sat while I'm taking in the deep breaths.
I felt no pain. And all the way home I felt no pain. I mean it felt awkward with a patch over my right eye, yet no pain. We stopped on the way home to pick up the kids from my mother's house, and I never even left the car. I had a blanket over my head, and all the meds in my body wouldn't let me move.
I heard a rap on the window. I waved, yet it was a feeble wave. I heard my 1 YO say, "Daddy, eye." The right home was abnormally quiet. Once home I felt great, and I was able to eat a couple pieces of toast.
The phone rang. It was 2:00. I picked it up. It was the doctor who poked my eye a few hours earlier. "Most people like to just lie around the first day," he said.
"I feel pretty darn good, considering. Although I don't have my hopes up based on my history."
"That's great. You can keep the patch on over night, if you want. I gave you antibiotis that should last 24 hours, so that should be okay.'
"I'll probably do that," I said.
"Your surgery went pretty good. Considering you had this done three other times, your muscle was still pretty intact. There wasn't much scar tissue. I think things went pretty well.
I took a nap, and when I woke up the oxygen tank in my head made it feel as though there was a herd of elephants in there.
Overall, I'd have to say I'm pretty impressed with the surgery, although it's only been 24 hours since my admission time yesterday. Other than the headache last evening, I've felt pretty good otehrwise. My eye feels a little weird, and uncomfortable, so I can see why a kid having this surgery might be a challenge as this guy wrote.
I had the surgery when I was 2, and my mom said I had a patch and was agitated by it. When I was 10 I had it, and I remember wanting the patch off, and the nurse took, it off, and then I insisted it be back on. I guess when you're uncomfortable you want to do something different, so this time I just left the patch on knowing it wouldn't feel any better with it off.
So, in this regard, I can see it's a much better expericne as an adult than as a child. Yet, I would highly recommend getting this done as a kid. Not being able to see properly can have its negative consequences. Whether you or your child as intropy or extropy types of strabismus, it's worth it to get the procedure done -- however annoying the post operation period is.
However, basically, you're loaded with so many good medicines the discomfort really isn't too bad. And it gives you an excuse to take a few days off and loaf around and sleep.
Overall I'd have to say it was a pretty positive experience. I was really impressed at all the people who saw me at the center, even while it was only a few moments for most. They all made doubly sure to recheck what I was having operated on. They all wore smiles. They all made what was a nerveracking experience not so bad.
Customer service is something Shoreline Medical works on with new employers, and then we are reminded in monthly meetings. Yet I imagine the screening tests we undergo before we're hired pretty much screens out the folks who wouldn't fit in.
And, as Kathleen noted, "Good customer service is probably a product of us all really enjoying our jobs."
My 11-year-old son had a baseball game and my wife was just about ready to leave, and I made sure she gave me a couple more Vicodin before she left. I knew I just too 2 four hours ago, but the directions said every 4-6 hours as needed (PRN) and I was going to take advantage of it. She also gave me a phenergin pill for the nausea.
About 15 minutes earlier Crystal woke me from a nice 2 hour nap, which to me is not normal unless I worked the night before. I usually don't take naps because when I do I don't sleep at night when I'm supposed to. Yet today that surgery, and the effects of the anesthesia, was my excuse to snooze. She probably wouldn't have awakened me, but I said she could if KK, my 7-year old girl, wanted to stay in the neighborhood and play with the neighbor girl.
So here I was lying on the couch listening to the accustomed sounds of sub division: the yelling, the crunch of plastic bike wheels on pavement, the occasional slamming of a door, the occasional bark of a dog, and the whooshing of cars. And now that my wife was gone, and the house empty, my head was ready to explode.
The ironic thing was that while my right eye felt a little prickly and a tad bit itchy under the patch, I really didn't feel any pain there. The pain was the rest of the head. While the cause might have been the eye, I had a distinct feeling I was having a major hangover from the wearing out of the anesthesia. I lied on the couch, mostly on my left side so I didn't put pressure on my right eye, and placed a shirt over my head to block out light. Yet I just couldn't get comfortable.
It hurt so bad I couldn't snooze. I wanted so bad to get up and take another Vicodin, yet I didn't think I should -- or at least a phenergin.
My daughter came in about 8:00 as she was instructed, and I told her to take a shower and get ready for bed. Also said, "You have to stay inside and help me. Remember," I said, my voice barely audible as my mouth was dry as a cotton ball and my throat a bit raw from the intubation, "A few days earlier when you were sick I stayed up all night with you. Here's your chance to spoil your daddy."
"But daddy," she said, "I want to play with Alisha. He bed time is 8:30, so I'll come back then. Under normal circumstances this would not stand, yet these were not normal circumstances.
"Well, go ahead then!"
An hour passed and KK did not return. I wanted my wife, my own personal nurse, home. You know how us guys are when we're not feeling well: we like to be coddled. Yet what I really wanted was for her to come home and say it was okay to take another Vicoden.
The door opened. It was Crystal, "Well, Lany never stopped crying the whole first two innings. I felt bad for Jordan because I couldn't watch the game, I had to breast feed instead. So I figured I might as well come home."
"Why was she crying?" It was a rhetorical question
"Well, she didnt' get a nap today."
I think the real reason Laney was because babies have telepathy, and my Laney new I had a headache. After Crystal left and came back from picking up the boy, I strolled right to bed thinking I'd fall asleep. That never happened.
At 11:00 p.m. my personal nurse came in with some vicoden and a cup of water. She slipped in next to be and started rubbing my back.
"I never heard the kids come in," I said.
"That's because I told them to be quiet."
"That's rare that they listen," I said. It shows they can be good when they choose, I wanted to say, yet the words were stuckf floating among the air billowing around in my brain.
I arrived at the surgery center before my scheduled time of 9:30 A.M. and was immediately in with someone answering questions. Unlike our own hospital, they didn't ask me the same questions I was asked over the phone two days earlier. That was nice. And five minutes later my wife and I were lead to a recliner in the surgery preparation room by a young lady carrying a clipboard who said she was my helper. I do not remember her name.
She set the clipboard on the counter top to my right, and gave me a gown and told me to take everything off except my undies and "put on this gown." She left and I did as instructed. When she returned she picked up the clipboard and said, "So, it says here your RIGHT eye is being operated on. Is that right?"
She left and moments later a nurse's aid whose name I don't recall came in. The first thing she said was, looking at my wife, "Wow! When are we due?" After a brief chat she asked me tons of questions, ending with, "So, we are operating on your right eye?"
She took my blood pressure: it was 155/88, high for your humble RT. She took my blood pressure: 78, high for your humble RT, although in normal range.
Then anesthesiologist #1 came in to ask a few more questions. I don't remember her name either. She looked in my mouth, and I said, "Is this an LMA mouth or an ETT mouth?"
She said, "I'm not going to be taking care of you in surgery. Another anesthesiologist will do that. I'm just checking. "It says here you are going to have surgery on your right eye. Are you in agreement with that?"
A nurse came in next, and the first thing she said was, "When's the baby due?" Once again this set off a nice discussion, and it ensued until she was ready to insert my IV. "I'd rather have an ABG than an IV," I said.
"Really? I'd think ABGs would hurt worse," she said.
"I had an IV put in at the same time an ABG was being performed once," I said, "and I never even felt the ABG."
"We are operating on your right eye, right?"
Moments later anesthesioligist #2 came in. "We are operating on your right eye. Am I correct," she asked. He looked at my mouth. When I was finished, I said, "Are you going to use an ETT or an LMA?" She smiled in a way that indicated it was a question she never expected from a patient.
The doctor was next. "Are you in agreement we chose to operate on your right eye?" I agreed, and he took a black marker and marked over my right eye.
Another nurse came in. "I'll be your nurse during the procedure. We are operating on your right eye, right?"
"Just think right," I said.
Finally I was alone with my wife. White coat fever in full force, and my vitals proved it.
I walked to the cool operating room, and the doctor was sitting at the back of a bed all smiles. I do remember his name. There were 5 or so other's in the room. I hopped on the bed, was covered with a few warm blankets, and the anesthesiologist placed a mask a few inches above my head, "It's just oxygen," she said.
"Do you ever use gas to knock people out anymore," I asked, "or just IV stuff?
"We only use gas on kids."
"I remember that. In fact, I think that's what made my pukey after I woke up."
"You had this before?"
"Yes." I could feel the tingling now. I figured I'd be going out pretty soon. I would keep taking until I was out, which is out of character for me because I'm usually taciturn.
"And you have experience with nausea?"
"Yes."
"Have you ever had another surgery before. One not on your eye."
"Yes. I had this one three other times, and I remember being sick all three times. And in 1993 I had nasal septal repair. I did not get sick." My voice was starting to echo in my head. The medicine was working.
"Did you wake up nauseous for that one
"No."
"That's because for some reason when we operate on eyes and scrotums people tend to get nauseous."
I could hear my wife saying, "Don't say that to him." She wants me to get the big V.
That's my last thought before waking up. The blood pressure cuff was going off. I could feel the prick of my right eye. "What's the pain level," she asked. He name was Kathleen. I remember it, but only because I asked her 3 times.
"About an 8." It was purely subjective. I couldn't say 10, because to me 10 is so bad you can't sit still and scream. In fact, if you go by that measure, I was probably a five. Yet I didn't want her to be conservative with the medicine.
I could feel the blood pressure cuff squeezing my left arm again. When it was done I asked, "What was it?"
"Diastolic 100. The doctor said your young enough I can give you labatolol." She did, and the next time the cuff went off she said my blood pressure was 108/58. She said that was good, but to me it was low. I could really feel the tingling in my blood at that point, and as I tried to speak my words were drifting off.
"How long do I have to stay in this room." I was asking too many questions, although I was feeling great, like warm and tingly great. I could feel myself drifting off.
"Just until we have your blood pressure under control. I think it has to do with pain, so we have to get that under control."
"Take a deep breath," she said. Her voice coming from the distance. "Your sat is only 88."
I did, yet she repeated herself, "I need you to take in a deep breath. You probably know all about that."
I did. And I know that taking in a deep breath will only increase a sat while I'm taking in the deep breaths.
I felt no pain. And all the way home I felt no pain. I mean it felt awkward with a patch over my right eye, yet no pain. We stopped on the way home to pick up the kids from my mother's house, and I never even left the car. I had a blanket over my head, and all the meds in my body wouldn't let me move.
I heard a rap on the window. I waved, yet it was a feeble wave. I heard my 1 YO say, "Daddy, eye." The right home was abnormally quiet. Once home I felt great, and I was able to eat a couple pieces of toast.
The phone rang. It was 2:00. I picked it up. It was the doctor who poked my eye a few hours earlier. "Most people like to just lie around the first day," he said.
"I feel pretty darn good, considering. Although I don't have my hopes up based on my history."
"That's great. You can keep the patch on over night, if you want. I gave you antibiotis that should last 24 hours, so that should be okay.'
"I'll probably do that," I said.
"Your surgery went pretty good. Considering you had this done three other times, your muscle was still pretty intact. There wasn't much scar tissue. I think things went pretty well.
I took a nap, and when I woke up the oxygen tank in my head made it feel as though there was a herd of elephants in there.
Overall, I'd have to say I'm pretty impressed with the surgery, although it's only been 24 hours since my admission time yesterday. Other than the headache last evening, I've felt pretty good otehrwise. My eye feels a little weird, and uncomfortable, so I can see why a kid having this surgery might be a challenge as this guy wrote.
I had the surgery when I was 2, and my mom said I had a patch and was agitated by it. When I was 10 I had it, and I remember wanting the patch off, and the nurse took, it off, and then I insisted it be back on. I guess when you're uncomfortable you want to do something different, so this time I just left the patch on knowing it wouldn't feel any better with it off.
So, in this regard, I can see it's a much better expericne as an adult than as a child. Yet, I would highly recommend getting this done as a kid. Not being able to see properly can have its negative consequences. Whether you or your child as intropy or extropy types of strabismus, it's worth it to get the procedure done -- however annoying the post operation period is.
However, basically, you're loaded with so many good medicines the discomfort really isn't too bad. And it gives you an excuse to take a few days off and loaf around and sleep.
Overall I'd have to say it was a pretty positive experience. I was really impressed at all the people who saw me at the center, even while it was only a few moments for most. They all made doubly sure to recheck what I was having operated on. They all wore smiles. They all made what was a nerveracking experience not so bad.
Customer service is something Shoreline Medical works on with new employers, and then we are reminded in monthly meetings. Yet I imagine the screening tests we undergo before we're hired pretty much screens out the folks who wouldn't fit in.
And, as Kathleen noted, "Good customer service is probably a product of us all really enjoying our jobs."
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