Fuching Fuch's

Allow me to go on about my eyes for a moment. First I have good news. I saw my esteemed ophthalmologist last month and I am pleased to say he gave me a further year's grace before re-considering the necessity for corneal transplantation.

The condition has advanced a little, I was told, but not too quickly. Excellent. But then there's also my left-sided cataract. When the time does come for a transplant, he explained, they would do the cataract first and then go on with the other procedure some weeks later.

OK.Now I have the sort of mind that runs through likely future evnts with great and awful accuracy sometimes. But it would be abundantly clear to anyone that I'm going to be in for an awful lot of hassle when all that goes down. All that messing about with your eyes? I mean, evolution trained us to keep everything away from our eyes, right? But wait, we haven't finished with the good news yet. Almost in passing he mentions how with any luck my vision after it has all been done could well be better than it has been for twenty years. Now this is wonderful to hear, obviously,

The fact is, more and more often recently, little things are starting to happen which are a just little bit scary. Earlier this year I read my first book, cover to cover, using a magnifying glass exclusively, I am currently using a Kindle, which is actually a lot easier because you can adjust the font size to suit whatever level of blindyness you might be at. Then the other day I was taking some pictures indoors and put my lens cap down on the carpet. When I came to retrieve it a few minutes later it had merged into the pattern of the carpet and become invisible. I scrabbled around on the carpet for several mimnutes before giving up. Hours later, when my wife came home I asked her if she could see it at all. Instantly she pointed and said: "There it is."

I am still driving: I still fulfil the criteria for the driving test- viz: a number plate at 20 metres- but only just. My visual acuity is, officially, with corrective lenses 6/9. That is to say, what you can comfortably see 9 metres away I have to stand only six metres away to see properly. And that's the problem. When it goes to 6/12 you're screwed, and should hand back your driving licence, lest you endanger yourself or others by reason of defective vision.

Aware of the insidious danger, I am taking precautions. I am giving myself a bigger than hitherto margin for error, always allowing for the possibility I may have grossly misjudged distances, sort of thing. Driving at night I can still just about do, In Fuch's the vision is worst in the mornings and improves steadily through the day. However, it also produces elaborate and multicoloured halos round all bright lights, which is not half as much fun as it sounds.

So I fantasise about being restored to the mythical 6/6 one day, a normal person again. Yet I do dread all that interference with my eyes that lies ahead. I will have to use eye drops and ointment several times a day for the remainder of my life, but I have been doing that for over over a year now and have become very skilled at it. Mind you, that's out of fear partly. Sometimes in Fuch's the cornea becomes so waterlogged it can burst spectacularly, with very severe consequences for the affected eye. Like 6/60. The regular salt water drops, which drag water away from the cornea by osmotic effect, reduce the risk of this happening somewhat. You can see why I've got so good at it...

One final advantage I have stumbled on: when going into a store I will go up to someone for help in finding some commodity. Before they get started with giving directions, I come in with:
 "Look, do you think you could show me where that is? I'm partially sighted,"
It always works. Sometimes they will even scamper off and fetch it for you. I find it particularly useful in the local Blockbuster.