Forward
(posted: April 2003)
Why it helps to step
back, take a look and start planning
It's two days, two weeks,
two months, even two or more years after surgery. You're facing
unexpected problems with your vision, or eye pain that's driving
you to distraction. You don't understand what is going on, or you
don't feel as though you're in control, or you don't know what your
diagnosis really means, or you don't have a diagnosis and no one
but you seems to think there's a problem. Your surgeon or regular
eye doctor is unconcerned, or perplexed, or glib, or cryptic, or
reassuring but not communicative, or inaccessible. No one seems
to have satisfactory answers to your questions, or you don't know
what questions to ask, or you are too unsure of yourself to ask
anything. No one really seems to understand what a problem you're
facing, or they seem to think you might be exaggerating, or they
are reassuring but you do not feel reassured. Meanwhile work, family
and life in general roll on, you're trying to be business-as-usual
despite an eye situation that's disturbing, worrying, depressing,
even frightening or obsessing you.
What do you do? Who do
you turn to for help? Where do you even start?
You need simple answers
to your most critical questions. You need information to help you
figure out what questions to ask. But even before these, you may
need a framework, something to put your whole situation in perspective
and help you understand where you are and where to go from here.
A roadmap, in fact. And we hope that the one we offer may be useful
to help a few of you new complications patients get your bearings.
The inspiration for
this section is very much drawn from my own experience. I think
the best thing I ever did for myself was draw up a vision plan.
It was about three months
after surgery. I had finally got completely fed up with the unsatisfactory
answers from my surgeon (when he could be found) and my optometrist.
I had just got a second opinion from a specialist. I had walked
away from his surgery absolutely stunned. Up until that day I had
never dreamt that I might have permanently damaged vision. My surgeon
had diagnosed me with a transient muscular disorder - and now I
was told that, in general terms, my corneas were damaged permanently
and there was no way to fix them.
It was only weeks
after September 11th. I had just got a job transfer and was to be
moving within a couple of months. We needed to sell our home, and
make a thousand arrangements. I was travelling most of the time
on business. And here I was with trashy vision and fears for my
future and eyes that hurt and, and, and... I was in danger of getting
completely overwhelmed.
So, I sat down and
wrote out a plan to break the tasks ahead of me down into digestible
chunks, to give myself a few manageable things to focus on and set
aside those things that I could safely ignore for awhile. Among
other things, I decided that what I really needed was a pair of
crutches, and some assurance that walking around with them wasn't
going to exacerbate them. I determined to worry about the long term
later. One step at a time. Once I knew there were no short-term
threats to my vision - no "bad thing" going on that could
get worse if I didn't take action - I found I could safely leave
the problem of proper diagnosis and treatment for later, and simply
focus on dealing with the day-to-day problems.
Your situation is different.
Everyone's is. What we want to do is suggest an example of framework
some part of which might be helpful to you, to assist you to concentrate
effectively on the things that really matter and reducing your stress
levels to the extent possible.
Good luck, keep in
touch and let us know if we can be of assistance.
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