Eyeballs in the ER

It's like this – I used to, straight up, loathe Mass Eye and Ear. The only appointments had there that were reliably, satisfyingly competent and reasonably on time (versus hours, seriously, hours late) were those with my beloved Beach Boy neurotologist, Mike McKenna. OK, my old neuro-ophthalmologist, Simmons Lessell's, office was always spot on too.

All others were woefully, painfully, sub par.

Over the past couple years though, I’ve had significantly better experiences there. My cornea dude, Doc Dana, and the stylin' Doc Davies and their staffs have been incredible.

And then this nasty post cataract surgery thing happened. Jen was on the phone on and off most of Saturday with different nurses and docs. She was even instructed by the last one, an on call cornea specialist, to email in:

• A pic of my red and swollen but not yet quite Frankenstinian eye
• Pics of all my eyeball meds

Looked like we were getting somewhere. But no. Before he even got the pics, he pronounced that I was having a bad reaction to the medical tape used to secure the sleepytime shield over my eye.  Oh…rilly?

• The tape is never in contact with my eyelids – cheek and forehead only.
• I'm not allergic to med tape

Jen sent off images but the dude did NOT call or resopond to the emails. Guess he had a party to go to or something.

By this time, I figured out for myself that I was having an allergic reaction to something. It seemed my eye was NOT about to fall out and I wasn't about to go blind. I suspected the prescription nighttime goop was teeing off my monster-from-the-deep look or, mebbe, it was that in combo with with my usual racktime dry eye goop.

Experiment time! I used only the prescription stuff last night.  Boyhowdy, when I woke this morning looking like one of the current White House administration's battered wives, I had my answer – my eye no like the prescription goop.

Why'd I go to the ER? Do I have an ER fetish? Ah...no.

• To make sure the eye, which looked horror-show bad this morning, was gonna be AOK,
• To get advice or meds or something to fix the giant rotted bloom that my eyelids had become
• To get the pro medical folk's word (versus my guess) that, yes, it's the goop, stop using it.

Did I get what I needed? After a lot of frustration, yes, more or less.

ACTUAL pic of what I look like now!

For staters, the first words out of the intake nurse's mouth were "do you read lips?"  This is Mass Eye and Ear where, I’d have thought, the staff would have experience with and knowledge about deafness. Ya know – they’d all be aware that lipreading a complete stranger accurately and completely is beyond most mere mortals. Nope. I tried to calmly inform and educate without going full blown, pedantic Jane you ignorant slut.

Then there was the on call eye doc. She kept interrupting me when I was giving her my sitch, saying that we (Jen was with me) should "call your doctor."  I'm sitting in there, expecting the doctor to hear my story, examine me, assure me I'm not gonna lose the eye and/or make me inpatient, dispense meds or, at least some pro recommendations, and what do I get? "Call your doctor." At that point, I kinda lost it. If that's all you're gonna say, what was the point in me coming in?! I pointedly, angrily pinned her down to answer the basics:

• Is this allergic reaction compromising my cataract surgery result? No.
• Is this serious? No.
• When will the red and swelling subside? A couple days.
• Is the night goop the cause. Yes. Stop using it.

She didn’t give any recommendations or an alternate goop ‘script but she finally did look around in my eyeball.

All in all it was a real Jane you ignorant slut morning. I'm no longer worried and freakin.' Nope, now I'm just pissed.