The basics are, I have benign intracranial hypertension. Or too much fluid on the brain. It’s a fun thing.
No, not really.
The good news is it seems to be improving, eventually, which is a heck of a lot better than the earlier diagnosis which was that the best I could hope for was that nothing would get worse. I am sure no one is shocked that the prospect of going blind wasn’t exactly welcome.
The last visit to the neurologist brought better news, the fluid which had been pressing on the optic discs and caused scarring and swelling but this had gone down and there was no reason to think it wouldn’t go completely. I could have kissed him.
When I had been fretting and worrying about losing my sight I thought about not being able to read, to needing help to get about and learning to do things by touch. More importantly I worried about what would happen to our youngest. How would I learn to look after her if I couldn’t see her? How could I meet her needs? After all the battles to try to tame her behavioural problems, battles about schooling, respite and not sending her to residential care was it all going to be for nothing because of my eyesight?
The night scene below is a bit what my world was like for a while, how reading was for a long time. How do you deal with things when your eyesight is shot and your cognition isn’t far behind? When each day you feel like your 100 years old and don’t look much younger?
Thankfully each day is a bit better, I made the mistake of not wearing my specs for an entire day a few days ago. I won’t do that again just yet, they were sore and swollen for days afterwards. But that day I could see without them. I could read. So it’s back to perching the specs half way along my nose and peering at the world and those therein over the top and reading through the lenses. It works for me.
© 2012, Penbleth / L. McG.-E.. All rights reserved.