The eyes of the monster – part 2

Well, I went to see the eye surgeon.

The upshot of my meeting was that I’m not going to have an operation to correct my doublevision. I decided that it wasn’t worth it because I have what he termed a “complex squint” and any correction to my doublevision to the left would be offset by new problems to the right. The surgeon said he could perform the operation if I wanted it and give me single vision looking straight ahead but he couldn’t cure me.

I decided that I would rather stick with what I’m used to and avoid an unpleasant operation with its uncertain aftermath.

There is, of course, the consideration that my eye movements could be affected again by a future relapse and undo everything the surgeon did.

At least I can stare out the monster with my prism lenses. They’re not perfect, but they iron out my straight-ahead vision when I need them to. They have their drawbacks in that they’re not very good with computer screens as they blur the text and they’re not very good with bright light (direct sun or car headlights) as they tend to splinter any brightness into vertical lines.

The extent of my problems as they stand is as follows: I see double from the centre (I hold my head slightly off kilter to make up for this, apparently) and to the left. This gets worse as I look further to the left and I get a little nystagmus (flickering eyes) to the extreme left.

Rather than screw up one eye, I either turn my head or trust the image from my right eye and mentally switch off my left eye image when I look left, which is odd because my left eye is a little bit sharper than my right one..

I see single, slightly off centre to the right and then it doesn’t take long before I get a textbook case of very noticeable nystagmus (surgeon to student yesterday: “take a look and note that for your finals”) coupled with not so extreme doublevision to the extreme right.

When my eyes look up and down in the single vision field, they’re fine and when I look left and right, my eyes travel at slightly different speeds – there’s a little bit of lag in my left eye.

If the truth be known, I have to say the meeting answered a lot of questions and I’m relieved I don’t have to go through all that.

“Sorry, there’s nothing we can do”

There is a stand up routine by Sean Lock where he recounts being told off for swearing by belligerent airport staff. His exasperated reply finishes with “This is exactly the sort of occasion swearing was f***ing invented for!”

Excuse me a moment…

a$%e!…  &u$%&!!…  (%d%*!!! %^&*!!…   f&*^:~!!…  ~*()&*&^$%$”!!!!!!

There – out of my system…

No, wait, hang on…

%&^*£$^%$!!

There. Feel a bit better, now.

I went to see an orthoptist about my doublevision, nystagmus, intranuclear opthalmoplegia and oscillopsia the other day.

I spent about an hour undergoing various tests. I followed a torch with my eyes. I had various lenses passed in front of each of my eyes and I had to say when the image became double and single. I pointed at dots with a long stick (and missed). I looked at various patterns to find the hidden 3D shape and of course I read the all too familiar eye chart.

Things I didn’t know before: I also have doublevision looking up to the right and my left eye doesn’t pull in towards the nose as much as it should do.

I have been looking forward to my doublevision being ‘sorted’ for a year and a half. As I mentioned in my last post, this is the one constant symptom, the one that doesn’t fade away and then come crashing back. The symptom that is constantly breathing down my shoulder reminding me I have MS and it is the symptom that spurred me on into visiting the GP in the first place.

It is also (as I screw up one eye to look at you) a symptom that makes me feel dizzy, tires me out, drags me down and makes me look like a weirdo. I was convinced that the magical people in the eye department of my local hospital would be able to build me prism lensed spectacles to straighten things out for me. Not to wear all the time, you understand, just when I’m at work, or in a meeting, or driving my car, or walking along the street. I’m not asking for much really. Just some semblance of normality.

“Sorry, there’s nothing we can do…”

Apparently, they can’t (or won’t) correct doublevision unless it occurs in the primary position (straight ahead). Also, my eyesight is pretty good – I can read most of the bottom line on the eye chart and if I did have glasses, they would have to be plain glass and the prism lens would blur things a bit for me.

So there I was watching the orthoptist as he moved his head left and right to demonstrate how you look left and right.

Yes, I should be grateful for the fact that I can see, and yes, I should be grateful for the fact that I can see pretty well and yes, it could be a whole lot worse – a hell of a lot worse. I could have been maimed in an accident, I know. But days like this remind me that MS is a complete an utter uncurable bastard. Things will never be the same. I will never be able to look around with my eyes travelling the same speed again. I will never be able to look left and see a single image. I will never be able to look right and keep my eyes perfectly still. I will never be able to read a book without it tiring me out. Things will never be how they used to be.

So when someone tells you there is nothing they can do, that little ember of hope at the back of the hearth that you thought might be coaxed back to life with some newspaper and a bit of careful blowing, is snuffed out with a gallon of water.

And what makes it all so much worse is that I will probably look back on this day and think how lucky I was back then compared to how I am ‘now’.

Doublevision is one of those symptoms that can come and go in Relapsing Remitting MS, but I’m pretty sure that after a year and a half we’re not just talking about demyelination on the nerve controlling eye movement. I think there’s been some permanent damage.

I have an appointment with an opthalmologist in a couple of weeks and they want to look at the back of my eyes and document the “state of things” I guess. They will probably also want to patronise me by telling me stuff I already know about nerve damage and so on.

So, having taken the knock and bottling up all the crestfallen feelings I’m back to the bustle of the hospital lobby. Past the people in Costa coffee. Skirting the guy with the mop and the couple with the walking frames. Through the automatic doors, past the A & E entrance, then the maternity wing with a handful of expectant mothers in dressing gowns, fags in hands.

Back to the car…

Negotiating the one-way system through the car parks…

Waiting for the ambulance to go past…

out onto the main road…

Whack the stereo on full blast to take my mind off things as I head back to town…

The music starts: “There’s no escaping from / the man it seems that I’ve become…” *

…The grief.

* test your music trivia – identify the track and you may or (more likely) may not win a prize (not decided yet, but nothing big and nothing amazing).

One year on …

Today is the first anniversary of my diagnosis (see MS History – part two).

Health professional bodycount so far.

Starting with the first GP visit last year, the bodycount is as follows

  • GPs 4
  • Practice Nurses 2
  • MS nurse 1
  • Ward nurse 1
  • Occupational Health nurse 1
  • Phlebotomists 6 (estimate)
  • Physiotherapists 1
  • Neurologists 5
  • Neuro-psychologists 2
  • Radiologists 4

If you consider the medication as well, I have probably cost the NHS more money over the last year than some of it’s employees.

Symptom recap:

Current symptoms:

  • mild optic neuritis (since Jan ’09)
  • doublevision / nystagmus / intra-nuclear opthalmoplegia / oscillopsia
  • fatigue
  • tingling / pins and needles
  • neuropathic pain in legs

Symtoms that have cleared up for now:

  • L’Hermitte’s sign
  • vertigo
  • muscle weakness
  • involuntary muscle movement

Of the current symptoms, the fatigue and optic neuritis aren’t quite as acute as they were at first onset, so I feel much better, relatively, than I did last year. I think it is important to stress that I still have bad days, though (I nearly fell asleep in a meeting yesterday). Things are also helped by friendlier medication.

Yearly neurologist meeting – 2009

Yesterday, I saw my neurologist’s registrar – Dr Somebodyorother plus one student.

I had to recap my entire MS history from Day 1 again. I always find it difficult to remember the relapses prior to diagnosis as I didn’t recognise them for what they were at the time.

I did my usual set of tests. I had my reflexes tested, walk/limped from one line of old red tape stuck on the floor to another one and back while he timed me on his iphone, I walked an imaginary tightrope heel to toe, I read the eye chart, I resisted the pulling and pushing of my arms and legs, I had my eyes examined and I watched his finger move from left to right…

…my eyes were flickering…

“Do you want to come and have a look at this?” as he singled out my nystagmus to his student.

…and back again as his finger became two fingers as if he was making bunny ears behind an invisible head.

Back in the consultation room, my regular uber-neurologist breezed in with a student in tow. He flashed me a grin and told me how well I looked (see pet peeves part one) and leant against a bank of xray lightboxes with chin in hand as the registrar recounted his findings. At the mention of nystagmus, he lurched himself upright and held his biro vertically in front of my nose. I dutifully followed the pen, demonstrating my wonky eyes to the second student.

Excuse me while I digress – I have no idea if my nystagmus is a particularly textbook example or whether nystagmus cases are hard to find, but it is always singled out to the accompanying student. So if you are reading this blog and you are a neurology student (or otherwise), it will be quite easy for me to post a film of my oscillating eyes on this blog. If you would like me to do so leave a message in the comments and I will be happy to oblige.

He also noted my intranuclear opthalmoplegia, which his registrar had missed (my left eye moves a bit slower than my right).

Anyway, summarising the meeting:

  • I have only had one minor relapse in the last year, so the medication (Rebif) is working and I can continue with it.
  • An appointment is to be made at my local hospital, so they can try me with prismatic lensed spectacles that may correct my doublevision (no obligation to take them).
  • I have regained my balance. Good old self-healing magical brain. Standing up straight with my eyes closed, I don’t keel over and I can walk heel-to-toe across a room neither of which I could do a year ago.
  • I need an extra blood test to see how my system is coping with the Beta Interferon

“You’re doing very well” grinned my neurologist (cheerfully disregarding my mentioning pain and fatigue) before fielding a couple of my questions, shaking my hand and breezing out again.

So there you have it.

All being well, I won’t see him for another year.

In a rare moment of symmetry, my car passed it’s MOT a day later only needing a headlight adjusting.