Recovery Update: THE DOT IS GONE! 👁️🎉

Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting this update when I woke up this morning.

I got up to head to dialysis, did my usual check of the left eye, and went looking for my little unwanted passenger — the mysterious “air bubble” that has been hanging around in my vision.

And it was SUPER, SUPER SMALL.

We’ve gone from something noticeable at the bottom of my vision, to roughly the size of a 1-cent euro coin yesterday, to something this morning that looked almost like a pinhole.

It was so tiny that it looked different, too.

Before, the dot had been translucent. I could sort of see through it. This morning, it was so small that it just looked dark.

And it was moving around a little.

There were also a few other floaters joining the party, because apparently my left eye needed one final going-away celebration.

Then I got to dialysis.

I looked for the dot again.

Nothing.

Looked around.

Nothing.

Moved my eye.

NOTHING.

THE DOT IS GONE!

GONE! 👁️🎉

After days of calling it a horizon indicator, vinaigrette, an eclipse, a euro coin, and whatever else I could come up with, the mysterious dot that my doctor thought might be an air bubble appears to have finally disappeared from my vision.

I am certainly not declaring the entire eye adventure finished. I still have healing to do, and after everything this eye has put me through, I'm not tempting fate by announcing that Left Eye Airlines has permanently landed.

But today?

I'll take the win.

Now, about that arm...

Yeah.

While the eye seems to have decided it wanted some positive attention today, my arm apparently looked at the assignment and said:

“Don't worry. I'll keep things disgusting.”

It is crusty.

It is dark.

It looks nasty.

And judging by the picture, it may actually be getting more impressive in the grossness department while it heals.

So today's scoreboard:

👁️ Eye: DOT GONE!
🫧 Bubble: Apparently departed.
👀 Floaters: Still making occasional appearances.
💪 Arm: Crusty as hell.
🩹 Recovery: Still moving forward.

There have been a lot of strange developments during this recovery, but watching that dot get smaller day after day and then finally disappear is one update I've been waiting to write.

Sometimes progress happens slowly.

And sometimes I get to dialysis and realize...

THE DOT IS GONE!

Recovery Update: The Mystery Dot Is on the Move

Another day, another episode of “What Is My Left Eye Doing Now?”

The good news is that there seems to be some movement — literally.

For the last several days, I’ve been talking about the translucent dot in my vision. At my one-week follow-up after the silicone oil removal, the doctor couldn’t actually see the dot I was describing. His thought was that it might be an air bubble.

When I looked straight ahead, it had been sitting near the very bottom of my field of vision.

Today, it has moved.

The dot — bubble, UFO, freeloading tenant, whatever it ultimately turns out to be — has risen a little farther into the bottom portion of my view.

And it’s getting smaller.

At this point, I’d estimate it’s about the size of a 1-cent euro coin in my field of vision.

So apparently my eye has its own European currency now. 🇪🇺🪙👁️

I’m taking the fact that it’s getting smaller as something worth watching. I’m certainly not declaring victory, especially after the doctor told me there’s a possibility I may need injections because of the blood vessels in the back of my eye.

For now, though, I can report:

Mystery dot: smaller.
Mystery dot: moving.
Eye: still red.
Me: still watching everything like a hawk.

Meanwhile, the arm continues doing its impression of something discovered during an archaeological excavation.

It’s crustier, darker, and still looks considerably more dramatic than it feels. Every day it seems to find a new way to look disgusting while apparently continuing to heal.

Between the eye and the arm, my body seems determined to make sure I never run out of material for these updates.

Tomorrow?

Who knows.

Maybe the bubble will shrink again.

Maybe my arm will finally stop auditioning for a zombie movie.

At this point, progress doesn't necessarily have to look pretty. It just needs to keep moving in the right direction.

Recovery Update: The Bubble, the Blood Vessels & the Crusty Arm

Today was my one-week follow-up after having the silicone oil removed from my left eye, and apparently my recovery story needed another plot twist.

First, the easy update.

My arm is getting crustier.

That sounds disgusting because, frankly, it looks disgusting. The road rash from my disagreement with my prosthetic, gravity, and the carpet is continuing to scab over. It may technically be healing, but aesthetically, we're still several miles away from a Neutrogena commercial.

Now, back to the eye.

For the past several days, I've been talking about the horizon, the vinaigrette, the eclipse and, most recently, this translucent dot or bubble floating around in my vision.

Naturally, that was one of the things I wanted to ask about at today's appointment.

The Good News

The doctor looked at my eye and didn't see the translucent dot I'm seeing.

Okay. That's encouraging.

Apparently, whatever I'm seeing isn't something obvious sitting there waving at him from inside my eyeball.

The Bad News

He said what I'm seeing might be an air bubble.

So after spending the last week describing my eye as an airplane cockpit, apparently there might literally be air involved.

You can't make this stuff up.

The horizon has been shrinking. The vinaigrette has been disappearing. The eclipse came and went.

Now I've potentially got my own tiny bubble level.

👁️🫧

And Then Came the REALLY Bad News

This was the part of the appointment I wasn't particularly excited to hear.

The doctor is concerned enough about the blood vessels in the back of my eye that I may need injections into the eye to help prevent further bleeding or problems with those vessels.

Yes.

Shots. In. My. Eye.

I've dealt with an amputation.

I've dealt with dialysis.

I've had retinal surgery.

I've had silicone oil put into my eye.

I've had silicone oil removed from my eye.

And somehow the phrase "injection into your eye" still manages to get my attention.

I'm not saying that's definitely happening yet. That's the possibility we're now discussing, and we'll see where things go from here.

For now, I'm continuing the recovery process and paying very close attention to what I can—and can't—see.

The good news is that I'm seeing better than I was immediately after surgery.

The weird translucent bubble is still hanging around.

The arm continues to transform into one giant, crusty scab.

And apparently my left eye has decided that one surgery wasn't enough material for this blog.

Stay tuned.

At this rate, my eye may develop Wi-Fi tomorrow.

The Eye Patch Came Off. That’s When the Fun Began. 👁️

Today, after dialysis, I headed back to the retina surgeon for the follow-up from yesterday’s silicone oil removal.

And the eye patch came off.

That’s where the fun began.

First, my eye looks like it got beat up in a bar fight. It’s bruised, irritated, and yes—it hurts.

But strangely, that isn’t the worst part.

Looking through that eye right now is like looking through a glass filled with cloudy liquid that is slowly trying to level out under gravity.

There’s a line. There’s cloudy stuff. It moves.

Basically, someone installed a snow globe in my eyeball and forgot to put the snow in.

Apparently, this is now part of the healing process.

I’ve also graduated to eye drops four times a day. One is an antibiotic, and the other is a steroid.

So if you see me next week and I’m green, 8 feet tall and screaming “HULK SMASH!”, we’ll know the steroid drops worked a little too well.

For the next week, I’ll continue the drops, keep an eye—literally—on the healing, and wear my eye guard at night so I don’t accidentally mess with it while sleeping.

Then it’s back to the retina surgeon in a week to see how everything is progressing.

Until then, I have dialysis, eye drops, an eye guard, and my own personal cloudy aquarium attached to my face.

Recovery continues.

Houston, We Have a Problem

I got up at 4:00 this morning to clean up, pack, and head to Charleston International Airport (CHS) for my 7:09 flight. Boarding began at 6:44, so there wasn’t much time to spare.

Everything was going according to plan. I showered, got my head nice and bald, got dressed, finished packing, and was ready to head out.

There was just one last thing to do: crank the prosthetic socket to make it snug.

Then I heard it.

“SNAP!”

Uhhh…what was that?

I looked down and discovered that the string connected to the piece that tightens my prosthetic socket had broken off somewhere.

Was this going to stop me?

For a moment, I thought, “Yup, it is.”

Then I reconsidered. The prosthesis wouldn’t be as secure, and I would have to limit my walking—but I could still go.

So, off I went.

On the way to the airport, I called Floyd Brace. They have an emergency hotline, and if I had been staying in the MTP area, I would have used it. But I was heading for the Big Apple, and this wasn’t an emergency.

I left a message asking for an appointment after dialysis on Monday.

When I arrived at the airport, I handed my keys to the valet and used wheelchair assistance at both CHS and LaGuardia Airport (LGA). So far, I’ve been okay.

Because the socket doesn’t fit as snugly as it should, I have to work a little harder. Still, I made it to New York.

This is life as an amputee. Sometimes something snaps at the worst possible moment, and you have to stop, assess the situation, adjust the plan, and keep moving.

This problem will be solved eventually.

Until then, I’ll keep adapting.