A pair of cat-eye glasses, a contact lenses case, and a syringe are all shown together.

Cross My Heart, I Have to Try, Stick a Needle in My Eye

I’ve worn glasses since I was seven years old, marking 53 years when this massive change reared its ugly head. I always was extremely nearsighted, the front of the class kind of kid. Back then the pointy princess eye wear was all the rage. What was my mother thinking?

Stronger prescriptions and thicker lenses

All through the years, eye exams meant new lenses, meant stronger prescriptions, and of course, thicker and thicker lenses. Hitting those teen years meant contacts for me and I was thrilled. The hard, gas permeable contact lens gave me some freedom from the old coke bottle glasses. Life was good. Thankfully, during this time, the changes in prescriptions slowed down. My teens turned rolled into my twenties, I got married and life with four babies filled the days.

Cataract surgery

Eye exams revealed cataracts while in my early forties. I was taken aback by this, but the doctors do what they do best. Cataract surgery brought another phase in my eye journey, no glasses! Well, “cheater readers” for close up but freedom from distance assistance. It was great. For two years. I found myself back to glasses again. Plus side? These glasses were so much thinner, almost fashionable. The next ten plus years there were no real changes in my vision.

A myopic macular degeneration diagnosis

My myopic macular degeneration journey made itself known in early March 2019. I had just turned sixty the past November. It was an odd moment, looking across the room, wondering why in the heck the door frame had a peculiar unnatural wave to it? That’s odd. It was just one eye. I remember it was a weekend, no office hours. I recall thinking, surely this is just one of those cataract adjustment things, right? I’ll call Monday and we’ll get this done.

Unfortunately, that was not the case. A quick exam revealed I needed to be seen by a retinal specialist and with extensive scans and major dilation came the diagnosis. Myopic macular degeneration.

Hoping each injection will be my last

This began my journey. Visits to the retina specialist every six to eight weeks and depending on their findings, injections or no. I’ve had approximately eight to ten shots (not really tracking) during this time. For me, I’ll always have that huge floater blob midway across my left eye vision as the initial bleed caused a permanent scar on the macula. My view will always have the unsettling wavy-ness that is just not normal.

Which is where I am today. Trying to not let this new world rule my world, revisiting the specialist when I am told. Hoping and praying with each injection that this will be the last one. For real. This time.

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