eye news

How do I describe these emotions…? I went to Detroit today, to see Dr. Michael Trese. He specializes in treatment of people whose blindness is caused by damage to the eyes that occurs following premature birth.

I asked Mom to go back into the eye doctor’s office with me today–not because I needed her help, but because I needed her hand.

I have waited three months for this appointment, three months since hearing my internist say, “The MRI says your eyes are shrinking.” The “shrinking eye” is a somewhat common complication that occurs when people have had many treatments and the eyes are very damaged. Mom and I have not talked much in that time; but we have not needed to. The unspoken possibility has hung in the air between us since I was a child. She has always been open about it with me. If my eyes became painful and the pain could not be controlled, they might need to be removed. So when I had the MRI to look for causes of headaches and it revealed “shrinkage of both globes,” I decided that it would be prudent to visit Dr. Trese and get his opinion.”

During the drive, I read a book that is part of the required reading for my ordination work. Dad listened to music at great volume. I wished he would turn it down. I needed to hear my computer in order to read; but I also wanted quiet for my mind and heart. Well, truthfully, I wanted to brood in silence. But it would not have been fair for me to ask him to allow me to brood. So I read and did not brood.

The exam went smoothly, especially considering how some of my exams have gone in the past. Because my eyes jump around so much, it is often hard for techs to take the pressure in my eyes. It took two sets of numbing drops, but this time the tech got a pressure measurement and the doctor got a reasonable exam.

He did not see notable signs of deterioration in the eyes. It seemed impressive to him that the pressure was healthy. I have a significant membrane behind the artificial cornea in my right eye… I received the cornea in 2005. A membrane was removed in October, 2007; but it grew back within a month. After this, the specialist said that he would not remove it again because I bled too much during the first removal. So I have not been back to the cornea specialist since then.

Dr. Trese explained that he has been using a new procedure for membrane removal for about nine months. The old procedures did not allow doctors to see the area inside the eye while they were removing it; but the new procedure does. He felt that this procedure might be useful for me. If nothing else, it would allow him to evaluate my retina and determine whether it would be possible (or even useful) to remove the membrane. One hopeful sign is that I can still perceive movement and contrast through the membrane, which indicates that I still have functioning retina inside.

There is no way to predict the outcome. This is nothing new to me. It is how most of my surgeries have gone. There is not even a way to tell how soon I would detect improvement. It could be the next day or a way down the road.

Sitting in the office, I worked really hard to keep my reactions reasonably level. Inside, I alternated between wanting to scream, “Oh my God, it’s not hopeless!” and wanting to cry. I asked intelligent questions: Who would he suggest do the procedure? He would do it himself. There would be no other specialists involved. Is it an awake or asleep procedure? Asleep. What is the follow-up and healing period like? I would have “a couple of stitches” and would return next day, next week, and then for periodic visits that get farther and farther out. The part of his talk that began to make the most sense to me, and help me make up my mind, was when he talked about how the membrane looked like it had been continuing to grow over the last couple of years and would likely continue growing. I decided to go through with the procedure.

About Sarah Blake LaRose

Sarah Blake LaRose teaches Biblical Hebrew and Greek at Anderson University School of Theology and Christian Ministry in Anderson, Indiana. She is one of three blind academic scholars who received the Jacob Bolotin Award from the National Federation of the Blind in 2016 in recognition of innovative work in the field of access to biblical language texts and tools for people who are blind. In addition to her work as a professor, she provides braille transcription services specializing in ancient languages. Her research interests concern the intersection of disability, poverty, and biblical studies.

About Sarah Blake LaRose

Sarah Blake LaRose teaches Biblical Hebrew and Greek at Anderson University School of Theology and Christian Ministry in Anderson, Indiana. She is one of three blind academic scholars who received the Jacob Bolotin Award from the National Federation of the Blind in 2016 in recognition of innovative work in the field of access to biblical language texts and tools for people who are blind. In addition to her work as a professor, she provides braille transcription services specializing in ancient languages. Her research interests concern the intersection of disability, poverty, and biblical studies.

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