I began the drive to Hamilton to see the specialized optometrist. He specializes in dry eyes, and Sjogren’s, and he was going to be the first step towards a potential diagnosis.
Sjogren’s, an autoimmune disease, was discovered by an ophthalmologist. In terms of symptoms of the eye, it includes dryness, and higher instances of infections.
Driving through Hamilton is never fun. The traffic is horrendous, and the roads in the downtown core can make you nauseous from all the bumps. Aside from some of their restaurants, and hiking trails, there is very little I enjoy about navigating my way through there.
My appointment started off with a series of tests. Tests where they were checking how often I blinked, how long I could go without blinking, and inspecting the glands inside my lower eyelids.
Dr. P brought me into his office after he received the results.
“So Amanda, you have come to see me today so we can see if you have Sjogren’s.”
“Yes, I was one who prompted that. I noticed I had a lot of symptoms.”
I left out the spirit guide part.
“So, I can see you have rosacea.”
“Yes, a dermatologist told me that once.”
“No, Amanda. I mean you have ocular rosacea. Rosacea of the eye, and your case is severe.”
My brain started humming. Humming over all the medical terms he started throwing out. I hadn’t even heard of this before. That wasn’t why I was here.
“How long have your eyes been dry?”
“I have no idea.”
This had become normal to me.
“By my estimate, you have had this 15 years or so. We took imaging of the glands in your lower eyelid. Do you see how the ones in the picture on the wall look long and tubular? Yours, the ones that haven’t died at least, look like little teeth.”
Inner dialogue had started. I hadn’t had to treat facial rosacea. This one probably wasn’t a big deal either.
“Can the damage be reversed?”
“Unfortunately, no. The glands that have died, have been lost. What we can do is treat the rosacea to prevent it from becoming worse, and help improve the health of the glands that remain.”
My brain was processing this slowly. 15 years. No one had ever caught it. Now the damage was permanent.
“I know you were having frequent eye infections in the past, right?”
“Yes, sometimes monthly. I was told they were either styes or blepharitis.”
“Was it an optometrist that told you that?”
“No. I only ever went to the walk-in for them.”
“And they never once said you should go see an optometrist?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I wish I was surprised. Look, I can tell you have had styes, I can even pinpoint where you’ve had them because of the glands that have died. Like here, the right eye, lower quadrant.”
They were almost always exclusively on my right eye.
“Physicians only spend about 10 minutes learning about the eyes. They are taught the ABCs of assessment. A being acute angle-closure glaucoma, B being blepharitis, and C being conjunctivitis. A is emergent, so you will almost always be diagnosed with B, or C.”
He decided to administer a tear test while we discussed treatment. The tear test collected tears for 5 minutes to assess your production levels. This was a test for Sjogren’s. My previous tests were not all aligned with a positive diagnosis, so he wanted to do something more extensive.
“I am assuming your tear numbers will be average.”
He stuck the paper strips in place, and instructed me to look up.
“The treatment is multifaceted. We will start with eye wash and moisturizer for the lids to tackle the inflammation. Eye drops and a compound I have created will round that part out. After that we began the bulk of the treatment. IPL laser mixed with 2 other treatments. One is to reduce lid dryness, and another to glandular health. That portion is about $2200 with taxes.”
Sir, this test certainly won’t be accurate now. That price is making me want to cry.
“Most insurance plans don’t cover this. We take 50% at the first appointment, and can split the remaining 50% across the 2nd and 3rd appointments. I want you to get in here as soon as possible. This treatment isn’t optional. You could end up cornea damage of this isn’t treated.”
My tear test was complete, and it turned out my tear production was 3 times below average. This meant Sjogren’s couldn’t be ruled out.
He ended our appointment by adding a day into his schedule to accommodate me. I would be expected to have one appointment a month for the next 3 months, and both of my girls would need to be tested.
I called my husband when I got outside. I told him what had happened and how I was still processing it.
“I feel like crying right now, and the irony is, I probably fucking can’t!”
I headed back to work, going back and forth feeling sorry for myself. It had been 6 days since I had found out I didn’t have cancer. I was expecting a longer reprieve from the medical stuff.
It suddenly hit me that none of this would be happening if I hadn’t been prompted to investigate Sjogren’s. My guides prompted this and my intuition caused me to follow through. Every moment, every test, and every doctor had led here. Yes, I wasn’t thrilled to have something new on my plate, but I was still in awe of the process.
Leave a comment