Eye of my Mind

…”Life is but a dream.”
askewis how the song I grew up with ends,

and that has cast a long and diversified shadow across my perceptual landscape ever since.  If I can conceive a thing then it is possible.  As I visualize a possibility, the more it becomes reality.  Clarity, therefore equals truth.  I believe what I see and that which I see is what I believe.

So when a black flag appeared at the top of my left eye in April, it made me wonder a little bit.  I didn’t have a mental record of such a sight, or the yellow filter that washed what I could see around the darkness, so my head reverberated with the magnitude of possibilities of what the hell that might be about.  Given my distaste for western medicine and it’s backward approach to health, and my absolute disdain for the impersonal, elitist, and even usurious manner in which it is administered in our particular country, I’m not one to run on out to the doctor when an infliction arises.   Beyond that, and more to the point, it is my responsibility to be present to my body and it’s needs…to understand the dynamics of what is going on inside and out so that I can lend my full participation to the healing process.  Probably the lesson of most impact I learn from Shiatsu is that health expands from unity of the entire psyche   I have to see the truth to believe it.

As most people who know me will attest, I’m pretty slow going.  So as I dug into research about vision maladies, the days turned.  After a couple, the black flag receded, leaving the yellow veil that appeared to be fluid in nature.  Having felt pretty logy throughout the winter, I was hoping the spring wind would blow open my doors a bit, but not so much; so I had been searching around our mountain home for an acupuncturist that might turn that trick.  Upon my visit to her, I counted out the dynamics and symptoms that I was dealing with:

  • the long hard 2015 of too many all-nighters…these days, 1 all-nighter is 1 too many…and stress
  • the sprained shoulder from autumn that had mostly healed but was still a bit stiff
  • my tweaking left eye

From healthfavo.com copyright 2013 Health, Medicine, and Anatomy Reference Pictures.

“I can look at your eye, but I can’t see inside of it,” she said to me; and immediately the words of my teacher Mother Marianne, echoed in my head…”All things in their proper place and time.  If you feel numbness in your left pinky, you should see a doctor to possibly prevent the heart attack.  Some symptoms are best treated with western medicine.”  A couple weeks had passed, and I’d already run the gamut of maladies and treatments at my disposal, and was ready for an outside eye, so I went down to the local optometrist/network provider to get an appointment on April 12th.  The young woman at the counter told me their next available appointment to get me reading glasses was on May 13th.  I replied that while reading glasses might not be a bad idea (i had just purchased a magnifying glass to help with that), I really needed an assessment of my blurry vision with a yellow tint, and asked if there might not be something a bit sooner.  “It wouldn’t matter anyway, because your insurance is cancelled until May 1st.”  This confirmed what I was told by the receptionist at the acupuncture office when she checked to find out that Aetna doesn’t cover that service.  So even though all payments had been made, our insurance had somehow not been continued throughout the previous term…not surprising since it took them the entire year to get me a card with my correct name on it.  While my masculinity is not challenged by being referred to by my wife’s last name (really it’s not…and more on that to come), bureaucrats and authority figures don’t take kindly to improper names on official documents.

So I waited.  And continued my vigilance on my eye disorder.  My shoulder was better and I felt perkier, so dug back into work with more verve and plowed on moving rocks and scenic elements as is my way.  My sight seemed to be improving some.  The yellow had mostly passed, and some days I thought that I might be getting over the hump.  But objects remained shrunken; then I noticed that my vision was gradually darkening, and discovered one day that my hands could feel my left eye sitting deeper in it’s socket than the right.  This gave me a new channel of research, but as much as I looked around, the words “detached retina” never crossed my path, until I finally got in to see the optometrist.   She seemed surprised when I told her I could not even see the big E with my left eye, and urgently set up an appointment with an ophthalmologist further on up the road.

And so the whirlwind began.  It took me a month to get a “might be” from the optometrist,  2 days to get a “macula off retinal detachment” diagnosis from the ophthalmologist (Friday-Monday), and was in NYC in the retinal surgeon’s office the day after that at 10:30 under the impression that I might be going under the knife the same afternoon.  After weeks of working on this at my Treebeard pace, and allowing the health industry to get warmed up, i was suddenly swept up into the machine of medicinal motion, and a down path I’d never, nor hoped ever to trod.  “Have you ever had surgery before?”  “Nope.”

Next up:  Macula Off

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