The road to recovery.

Well here I am with half an eye trying to write about my recovery. I wish I had more good news to report but it seems that Cornea and cataract surgery are slow recoveries. This is not my forte! I know patience is a virtue but I am still working on mine!

When I first had my surgery I described my vision with my new cornea and lens as looking through whole milk, 10 days later and it is now closer to looking through watered down skim milk, so it is getting better, just very slow for someone with my patience level.

I realize I should just be grateful and I am but I have also learned the road to recovery is pretty lonely. There are always people who say if you need anything just call, the reality is something quite different. I don’t want to dwell on this subject but lets just say you learn who your true friends are under these circumstances. Special thanks to those who helped me in any way, you know who you are and I will always appreciate your help!

I am used to power-walking at least 45 minutes every day, preferably outside or on the treadmill when it rains. I get up every morning and immediately think about going to the gym downstairs but I can’t do any sort of workout for at least a month and even then nothing that puts any pressure or strain on my eyes for a year.  Hopefully my butt won’t spread too quick! I know I can’t see it, but everyone else can!

Good thing we managed to time my  prime recovery period over the holidays. I can’t wear eye makeup yet because I can’t rub my eyes to  take it off. It has been years since I have gone without eye makeup in public. It doesn’t really matter that much though because I have to wear sunglasses if I do go out, so no one really sees my eyes anyways. Or maybe it’s just because I can’t see them, I think they can’t see me. Ok so I am a little delusional.

My biggest challenge is to work on my patience and accept that I need to rest in order to have the best results. I am trying my best, cross your fingers for me!

www.match-works.com

Sheree Morgan

Day two post surgery.

Early Saturday morning  my youngest son Derrick comes to pick me up and take me to see the resident’s attending doctor.Turns out he is actually the  partner to my own surgeon/doctor. He checks my eyes and swears that my surgeon did an absolutely beautiful job, the cornea looks fabulous and the stitches are meticulous and yes the lens is exactly were it should be! I can’t tell you how good it feels to hear these words! Yes there is swelling and I can’t see anything yet but this is quite normal after all I have just had the back of my cornea  removed another one stitched in place and a lens inserted in the front of my eye.

Oh just so you know I haven’t forgotten that I am a Matchmaker, before we went into the doctor’s office we stop for a coffee. Keep in mind that I look terrible. I have a shield over my eye, a sleeping mask over that to keep the light out, fastened by a hairpin to my hair in a jaunty angle so I can see out of the other one. I look like a drunken pirate. I am wearing yoga pants that I have been wearing for 2 days straight, no makeup of course, bad hair  and I still  introduce myself and ask the manager if they will allow me to leave my postcards for my business on their shelf for their clients to peruse. As we are walking back across the street being lead by my son, I break out laughing. I can’t believe I even dared to ask for a favour looking like that and that she let me. There must be some drugs left in me!

Back at home I explain to Derrick that I want to record this journey in a blog and beg him to set it up for me and yes I want to do it now. I will dictate if he writes it for me, while it is fresh in my mind. He looks at me like I am crazy, well I think he did, I am pretty much blind my this time, so I am not completely sure, it might have just been gas.

The first description of my surgery was extremely graphic, after re-reading it we realize  no one would ever have this surgery if they see this.  I agree to make  it a little more  PC. The intent is to inform and prepare someone facing this type of surgery not scare the hell out of them. The nightmare is still deeply intrenched in my brain but if the end result is I save my sight, it is worth it. Someone has to run my business.

My vision through my new cornea pretty much looks like I am looking through whole milk, actually maybe a light cream but at one point in the day I look towards my windows and I notice I am starting to see  the window frame outline. WOOOHOOO! Things are starting to appear.  It feels pretty scratchy and sore (need to medicate more) but the fluid (tears I guess) that were running from it yesterday have now stopped.  I am exhausted but happy I am on the road to recovery!

www.match-works.com

Sheree Morgan

After Surgery….

First off let me say how grateful I am for the opportunity to save my sight.  I know that my doctor. nurses and even the anesthesiologist all did their absolute best to give me the best outcome. There are no words to express my gratitude to them and of course my donor and their family, without them none of this would not be possible, there is no greater gift anyone can give! Thank you from the bottom of my heart!

I am also grateful for my sons  Geoff and Derrick who took time out of their busy lives to help me  through those first few days. Geoff was there when I came out of surgery and he held my hand as I tried to stop shaking. I was instructed not to move my head up or down or turn from side to side for an hour to help the graft attach and Geoff bent his 6′ tall body over my bed so I could see his face and distract me by talking to me. It worked because I calmed down fairly quickly, It didn’t hurt that there were no more scalpels aimed at me, I had survived.

After escaping the hospital we went directly to my doctor’s office for more examination. He explained that everything looked PERFECT and all I had to do now was go home and relax. Easier said than done. Geoff drove me home and  made me a nice lunch but I was so busy wiping the fluid that was continually streaming down my face I could barely eat. Why is it if your eyes run your nose does too?  Good god where was all this water coming from? Was this normal? Now my nose is raw too!  All I could do was dab under my eyes (no wiping) which was now swollen and puffy. The top lid of my eye was also red, swollen and my eye felt scratchy yet watery at the same time, how is this possible?   After annoying my doctor by calling him twice he swears this is perfectly normal. Time to self medicate.

My son made me a lovely dinner and after watching a little telly (ok I attempted to) he felt it was safe to leave. I go into the bathroom to put in my drops to help my body accept the cornea graft and help avoid infection. (one drop each, 4 times a day)  I remove my shield and try to check out my eye, what the hell is that? There is a ridge in the middle of my eye. It looks like the edge of the lens that was inserted for my cataracts. SHIT! IT MOVED!

My heart racing wildly I imagine having to go back under the knife, how could that happen? I was so careful, was it the water? Did I move or shake too much? I call my doctor (one more time) no answer. I had instructions to go to the emerg. if I couldn’t reach him in 30 minutes. I call my other son Derrick, he is on his way, I jump in a cab, imagining all sorts of bacteria waiting for me at emergency, but I have to risk it. Thank you to the cab driver who delivered me safely and insisted I just go in and wished me the best.

To the hospitals credit they fast tracked me immediately and I was led to a private room for observation. Of course the doctor on call has no idea what to do for me. He explains an ophthalmologist has just been called and is now on his way,  go to the eye care centre of the hospital and he will meet us there and open it up.  When he walks in I swear he is Dougie Houser’s roommate. Yes he is a resident! To his credit he seems to know what he is doing, he understands what Descemet’s Stripping  is and knows how to do all the right tests. This is good! He leaves and talks to his attending doctor on the phone, comes back, more tests, leaves and more talking to his doctor. He finally comes back and tells me that everything looks PERFECT, the stitches are perfect, the graft is perfectly in place and the lens has not moved. There is a bubble that has been left behind during the surgery, it is supposed to be there to help the  cornea graft attached properly. It is the ridge of the bubble I am seeing not the ridge of the lens. One more thing that would have been helpful to know beforehand. This is why I am writing this blog. My results may not be the same as everyone’s but armed with this information it may help someone from panicking as I did.

So much for day one of my new cornea graft and cataract lens.

Diagnosis Fuch’s Dystrophy

Five years ago I went to my ophthalmologist questioning why I was having difficulty driving at night. He scratched his head and passed me on to another doctor…and then another.  After four doctors I was finally sent to a cornea specialist at the Eye Care Center.  This doctor really knew his stuff and I was promptly diagnosed with Fuch’s dystrophy.

I was told there was no known cure but luckily with cornea transplants they could save my sight.  Oh yay!  Something to look forward to!  Of course I immediately went home and googled Fuch’s dystrophy and then proceeded to cry for the next three days!  Probably not the best idea for anyone with Fuch’s!  It’s like dumping water in a clogged sink.  But I couldn’t control myself.

On the fourth day I got my shit together.

I guess I should introduce myself.  My name is Sheree Morgan and I am a professional matchmaker/owner for Match-Works Matchmaking, dating coach and blogger for Vancouver Dating.  This is my attempt to help others dealing with the treatment of Fuch’s dystrophy and if you’re really lucky like me an added bonus of advanced cataracts.

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Eyeball Surgery

On Friday, December 9th I was delivered to the hospital and into the hands of my illustrious surgeon.  While sitting in the crowded waiting room, trying to calm my rapidly beating heart, I realized I was the only person there for a cornea transplant and cataract surgery. I thought I was doing pretty good until I saw the delivery man appear with a lunchbox labelled “Human Eyes”.  At that point all common sense left the building.

Just as I was starting to come around the nurse called me into the surgical prep area.  She then proceeded to drop about 400 different drops into my eye (maybe it was 20).  After I was deposited back in the waiting room the light show began!  Ohh pretty pictures.  Just as I was getting lulled into a false sense of security I was called back into the surgical prep room, this time for keeps.

After the anesthesiologist promises to take very good care of me, she explains I will be awake and aware the whole time.  OH MY GOD!  I begged for the drugs and to be put out, but she insists it is not safe because you can wakeup with a jerk or get sick afterwards from a general anesthetic.  This is not a good thing when someone has a scalpel to your eye!  I didn’t sign up for this!  Is it too late to escape?  Crap, they’ve already got me tied to an intravenous.

As I am being wheeled into surgery I am praying to every god I can think of.  I can hear my surgeon’s voice and the anesthesiologist starts her drip.  They drape my face and cut out a hole for my eye surgery to begin.  I can feel myself panicking even more.  Oh God, what if I move?  I am so terrified at this point I realize I am holding my breath.  Again, not recommended if hoping for a good outcome.  The picture show is starting to look like a Salvador Dali work of the damned!  I have a new appreciation for him now.  I don’t remember the order in which it all happened, but I do remember feeling a huge amount of pressure at times.  I don’t want to scare you with all the gory details, but lets just say I saw it ALL including the scalpel blades.  Maybe I’m dreaming; It sure feels like a nightmare.  Good thing I went to the washroom first.

At last I hear my doctor’s wonderful declaration “ITS OVER”.  They wheel me back to the prep room and I can feel my body start to shake.  I tried so hard not to move during surgery that I now feel like I’m on a vibrating bed.  My son is now holding my hand and the anesthesiologist is explaining one more time why she couldn’t give me more drugs.  Blah, blah, blah.  I don’t love her anymore.  The best news of the day is when my surgeon swears to me that everything went PERFECTLY.

We’ll talk about the night in emerg in the next post.

www.match-works.com