Metropolitan Museum of Art |
A stabbing pain on the tip of my left index finger. I knew the reason: my project. Our front steps, replaced more than 20 years ago, are now rotting around the edges. I'd been chiseling rotten wood away, custom-making new pieces of trim, doing lots of sanding, and got a splinter in my fingertip from an old board I'd pulled out of the scrap pile. I yanked the splinter out — I thought — and kept working. But obviously some piece of it remained, embedded.
This is what is known in literary circles as "foreshadowing."
No biggie. Finished lunch, upstairs to the bathroom, sterilized a tweezers with rubbing alcohol, and began digging. It was a tenacious little bugger, emphasis on "little" — it was like trying to grab the period at the end of this sentence with ice tongs. I finally invoked a higher power — asked my wife to help me. She took a look, and went to find a needle. Thus inspired, I concentrated my efforts and got it out myself.
Flash to evening.
When I went to sleep, my eye was watering. I flushed it with Refresh eye drops, and went to bed. The next day, the problem was there, particularly when I looked at the computer. Tears streamed down my face. Maybe eyestrain, I thought — I am on the computer a lot. The weekend passed, sanding and pressing plastic wood into gaps. Then there was the 3,000-word magazine piece to read, and I read it.
Monday, my eye was still watering, and my wife suggested maybe the problem was COVID. That's sometimes a symptom. I took one of our stack of tests. No COVID.
No biggie. Finished lunch, upstairs to the bathroom, sterilized a tweezers with rubbing alcohol, and began digging. It was a tenacious little bugger, emphasis on "little" — it was like trying to grab the period at the end of this sentence with ice tongs. I finally invoked a higher power — asked my wife to help me. She took a look, and went to find a needle. Thus inspired, I concentrated my efforts and got it out myself.
Flash to evening.
When I went to sleep, my eye was watering. I flushed it with Refresh eye drops, and went to bed. The next day, the problem was there, particularly when I looked at the computer. Tears streamed down my face. Maybe eyestrain, I thought — I am on the computer a lot. The weekend passed, sanding and pressing plastic wood into gaps. Then there was the 3,000-word magazine piece to read, and I read it.
Monday, my eye was still watering, and my wife suggested maybe the problem was COVID. That's sometimes a symptom. I took one of our stack of tests. No COVID.
"You should have an eye doctor see it," my wife said. I phoned an opthamologist we had seen last year for our prescriptions. Her examining room was dusty and her staff shrugged the fact off when my wife pointed it out. So we weren't ever going back. But ... any port in a storm. I talked to her nurse — the next available appointment was in August, she said, recommending Refresh Gel drops to tide me over until then.
So off to Walgreens to get the high octane, $21 gel eye drops. They helped. The problem seemed to be going away. Then it didn't. Tuesday I phoned my primary care doctor, Dr. Gregory Wallman. His nurse was aghast when I told her about the "See you in August" reaction from the dusty optometrist's office.
"A doctor needs to look at that eye!" she said in a tone that made me listen to her. She gave me the name of a glaucoma center in Glenview. I phoned. It was a FAX line. It whirred, and I figured, don't bother. That was Wednesday.
Thursday I was I was stretched out on the couch, and pressed on my eye. It hurt. That couldn't be good. I found the actual number for the Glencoe eye care center — a digit off from the FAX line. I phoned. They'd see me in two hours.
I arrived. Lots of questions. First a form. Then a quick eye exam with a technician. I waited for nearly an hour, flipping idly through old copies of Rolling Stone. I don't know any musical celebrities anymore. This ... is a waste of time, I thought.
Right up until the moment the opthamologist had me put my chin on a device and looked in eye. The examination took all of three seconds.
"You have a foreign body impacted in your eye," she said, matter-of-factly. The information arrived like a fire bell.
Oh. In all candor, some weisenheimer subsystem considered making a play on words with "foreign body." But I thought better of it. She numbed my eye and showed me a little hair's thickness cannula she intended to flick the piece of grit or splinter of whatever it was out. If that didn't work — and she didn't seem optimitic — we'd have to consider sterner measures.
I told her I'd probably be babbling the whole time she did it — I tend to talk when medical procedures are being done to me. She said it might work better if we both were silent, and I took her hint.
Removing the splinter took another three seconds. Done. I expressed my deep gratitude for her and went directly to Walgreens to get the two types of antibiotic drops she prescribed. Friday I stayed off the computer and gardened and the eye felt better.
Which leads us to the moral of the story. Check stuff out. Don't wait. And be your own medical advocate. Don't spend nearly a week with a splinter in your eye. If I had been discouraged by the first opthamologist who'd have me wait until August I'd still have that crap in my eye, with scar tissue already forming around it, the doctor who actually saw me said. So all hail Dr. Wallman's nurse, whose tone in that "A doctor needs to look at that eye!" was the kick in the ass that propelled me forward. And all hail my wife, who told me to make the call. Several times. Those of us who have access to health care ought to use it when we need it, and everyone should have access to health care. It's astounding that we live in a society where they don't. And where there are people who do have both access and need but are still too inert and stupid to use it as quickly as they ought to.
Thursday I was I was stretched out on the couch, and pressed on my eye. It hurt. That couldn't be good. I found the actual number for the Glencoe eye care center — a digit off from the FAX line. I phoned. They'd see me in two hours.
I arrived. Lots of questions. First a form. Then a quick eye exam with a technician. I waited for nearly an hour, flipping idly through old copies of Rolling Stone. I don't know any musical celebrities anymore. This ... is a waste of time, I thought.
Right up until the moment the opthamologist had me put my chin on a device and looked in eye. The examination took all of three seconds.
"You have a foreign body impacted in your eye," she said, matter-of-factly. The information arrived like a fire bell.
Oh. In all candor, some weisenheimer subsystem considered making a play on words with "foreign body." But I thought better of it. She numbed my eye and showed me a little hair's thickness cannula she intended to flick the piece of grit or splinter of whatever it was out. If that didn't work — and she didn't seem optimitic — we'd have to consider sterner measures.
I told her I'd probably be babbling the whole time she did it — I tend to talk when medical procedures are being done to me. She said it might work better if we both were silent, and I took her hint.
Removing the splinter took another three seconds. Done. I expressed my deep gratitude for her and went directly to Walgreens to get the two types of antibiotic drops she prescribed. Friday I stayed off the computer and gardened and the eye felt better.
Which leads us to the moral of the story. Check stuff out. Don't wait. And be your own medical advocate. Don't spend nearly a week with a splinter in your eye. If I had been discouraged by the first opthamologist who'd have me wait until August I'd still have that crap in my eye, with scar tissue already forming around it, the doctor who actually saw me said. So all hail Dr. Wallman's nurse, whose tone in that "A doctor needs to look at that eye!" was the kick in the ass that propelled me forward. And all hail my wife, who told me to make the call. Several times. Those of us who have access to health care ought to use it when we need it, and everyone should have access to health care. It's astounding that we live in a society where they don't. And where there are people who do have both access and need but are still too inert and stupid to use it as quickly as they ought to.
FYI, you can use Adolph's Meat Tenderizer [made into a paste with water] to soften a finger with a splinter [let is sit for 10 minutes or so]. The primary ingredient is "papain" which is, I believe, from the papaya. It really works.
ReplyDelete2 words: safety goggles
ReplyDeleteLucky for you that you didn't have an HMO type insurance. Then you'd have to only go to the specialist in your group and hope they could squeeze you in.
Your wife is a wise lady.
I'm in the process of having cataracts removed; one eye done, one to go. Normally, I avoid medications as much as possible, including eye drops, but I'm supposed to use special eye drops for one eye and so have taken to using Refresh in the other eye if it feels rather dry. Unfortunately, I also have a small container of ear drops in the bathroom and would generally consider it a mark of extreme senescence to mix up the drops. Needless to say, I've put the ear drops in my eye, not once, but twice on successive days. I don't seem to have damaged the eye yet, although it did burn a little right after the application, but that cleared up after rubbing the bad stuff out and applying the proper eye drops. A splinter such as invaded Neil's eye would really freak me out, especially as my "higher power" isn't around these days, but I would probably be too embarrassed to seek professional treatment. Kudos to those with good sense and good wives!
ReplyDeletejohn
In the future remember that we have seven layers of skin. You can use a single edge razor blade to scrape off one of two layers to gain access the splinter. Bloodless and painless. I did this many times for my kids. They didn't want Mommy to do it.
ReplyDeleteGoodness. Scary. Glad you got it checked out and you're ok.
ReplyDeleteI recall times of my life when I was not insured, and there are more affordable clinics to go to than people realize. Chicago Women's Health Center, Howard Brown, and Erie Family Clinic are a few, off the top of my head.
Years ago, I woke up on a Mother's Day morning with what looked like a transparent glue dot on my the white of my right eyeball. I thought I could wipe it away, but it was firmly fixed. My folks insisted on driving me me to the ER at Northwestern and I was told it was a pterygium. Per Johns Hopkins it's "also known as surfer's eye, [and] is a raised, wedge-shaped growth of the conjunctiva that extends onto the cornea — the outer layer of the eye." I was told that cyclists, which I was, boaters, farmers, and others outdoors in the windy son are at risk to acquire a pterygium with the mix of the sun, wind, and particles in the air. Luckily it went away on its own, and did not need treatment.
Do you know how the splinter ended up in your eye?
ReplyDeleteI got the impression that you didn't realize the splinter had become stuck in your eye until much later. I've always assumed one would know immediately if something like that happened.
DeleteI’m glad you’re better. Long ago I worked in marketing for pharmaceutical companies. I knew hundreds of physicians of all kinds - still do. There are some very poor ones in the best places. Trust your instincts, always.
ReplyDeleteThanks for providing a demonstration of why it's important to wear safety glasses/goggles.
ReplyDeleteAs a woodworker/ carpenter most of my adult life, I've learned that even goggles or glasses will not protect you from getting a particle in your eye. I've gotten particles of wood in my eye when I take my glasses off and they fall from my hair.
ReplyDeleteI learned that when such things happen. The worst thing you can do is touch your eye. Undoubtedly you have more dust and particles on your hand. Walk over to the sink. Wash your hands just above the sink where the eye wash station is. Take the bottle of solution. Tip your head back, squeeze it into your eye and completely irrigate it. It might come out again. Do not touch your eye. If there's something in there, you can end up scratching your eye and it feels like something's there for days. Even though there's nothing there. The worst thing I ever had happen was a tiny piece of metal. Went into my eye point first and I had to go to the emergency room and the doctor pulled it out with a tweezers patched up the eye and for a few days I looked like a pirate
I learned the same lesson six months ago, Mr. S. If something happens, take care of business right away, and don't wait for something to get better on its own.. My old dentist (who I blew off because he was anti-Obama), had a poster in his office that read: "Ignore your teeth and they'll go away." Ignore a medical issue, and YOU might go away. Don't spend more than a week with a skin infection in your leg, as I did last November, after scraping it on a piece of yard equipment in my garage.
ReplyDeleteOuch was the word. Big, bad, excruciating ouch. I stumbled to the patio and sat there with an ice bag on the wound and a drink in my hand. Just a scratch, I figured. Nothing more. But the pain got worse and my leg swelled up and turned red. Then my feet swelled up. Walking became more and more painful and difficult. Called the doc, and was told to go to the ER. By that time...NINE DAYS after my accident...I could hardly walk from the car to the building.They wheeled me inside in a chair, hooked me up to IVs, took X-rays, checked for a blood clot. Spent all afternoon there, and went home with a lot of pills and prescriptions..
The next two weeks were miserable. A lot of pain. The infection subsided, but the swelling did not. Cleveland Clinic did a number of tests on my legs, feet, veins and heart in December and early January. I had to see...and pay for...specialists. Turns out I have varicose veins in my legs and groin area, but an operation could send a blood clot to my heart--and kill me.
I now wear compression socks (I call hem "torture socks"), do a lot of walking every day, try to eat less junk, and need to lose about 25 pounds (Yeah, right...that'll happen.) I was lucky...but I was also stupid. One little scratch can cost you a leg...or your life. Shit happens...and you can even die from it. That's what they told me. Now I believe it.
Five hour plus wait in Northwestern's crowded er. 4-5 months to get to see a specialist and 2-3 months to see a primary care physician. You can have the best insurance but not get care in a timely fashion due to our overburdened health system. There are simply not enough doctors. The refrain in the medical profession is, "There are a lot of sick people."
ReplyDeleteSo sorry to read about your eye injury! I've had a few and they are extremely painful. My ophthalmologist, Jonathan Rosin, is in Northbrook and I highly recommend him or his associate. He's across the road from your favorite Northbrook bookstore. Please take care of your eye!
ReplyDeleteNo day off for you this Saturday, I guess.
ReplyDeleteNope, I've run out of writer friends who have projects to plug.
DeleteSaturday is Shabbos, Mr. S. The day of rest and reflection. Maybe some of your die-hard commenters can step up to the plate. With a word limit, of course. Like that newfangled pitch clock., which seems to be working out pretty well.
Delete