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.

Apparently, My Eye Has an Eclipse Now

Another day, another update from the cockpit of Left Eye Airlines, where apparently the in-flight entertainment has switched from aviation instruments to astronomy.

The good news is that the horizon is getting smaller.

The less-good news?

It’s still there.

That strange line across my vision that I've been comparing to the horizon indicator in an airplane cockpit hasn't completely disappeared. It takes up less of my field of vision than it did before, which I'll count as progress.

But today I discovered another visual effect.

And this one is weird.

I went to a recovery meeting with quite a bit of reading. I spent a lot of time looking downward at the material, and that's when I really noticed something different happening in the center of my vision.

It looks like an eclipse.

🌞🌑

Not the Mitsubishi Eclipse.

Although, admittedly, a turbocharged 1990s Mitsubishi would be considerably more entertaining than what my left eye is currently doing.

I'm talking about the sun-and-moon kind of eclipse.

When I'm looking down, things directly in the center of my vision become very dark. There's this dark circular area that reminds me of the moon passing in front of the sun.

So we've officially upgraded the Left Eye Airlines instrument panel.

First, I had a horizon indicator.

Then, apparently, we were climbing.

Then the horizon started shrinking.

And now?

We're apparently experiencing a total eclipse somewhere around cruising altitude.

Meanwhile, the eye itself is still pretty red, as you can see in the photo. It also hurts sometimes.

Pain management isn't quite as simple for me as grabbing whatever happens to be in the medicine cabinet. I have end-stage renal disease, so Advil isn't an option for me, and I don't take aspirin. That means I'm not casually reaching for those when the eye starts bothering me.

For now, I'm continuing to pay attention to what the eye is doing and following the recovery process.

And then there's my arm.

There really isn't an elegant way to describe today's arm update.

It just looks nasty.

The scrape from my disagreement with my prosthetic, gravity, and the carpet is still healing, but visually it has reached that wonderful stage where someone could look at the picture and reasonably ask:

"What the hell happened to you?"

The answer remains:

I fell.

Apparently, however, my arm believes it was involved in a motorcycle accident, bar fight, and bear attack simultaneously.

So today's recovery scoreboard:

Horizon: Smaller, but still there. ✈️
Vision: Improving, but strange. 👁️
Center of vision: Eclipse mode activated. 🌞🌑
Eye: Still red and occasionally painful.
Arm: Absolutely disgusting.
Sense of humor: Somehow still operational.

Recovery isn't always a straight line.

Sometimes it's a horizon.

Sometimes it's a bubble.

Sometimes it's vinaigrette.

And apparently, sometimes it's a solar eclipse inside your eyeball.

At this rate, I'm slightly concerned about what tomorrow's special effect will be.

Captain Niel signing off from Left Eye Airlines. Please do not stare directly at the eclipse. ✈️👁️🌑

Left Eye Airlines Is Gaining Altitude

Another day, another update from the increasingly complicated flight deck known as my left eye.

And today, I actually have some good news:

I can see a little better.

Not 20/20; throw away the glasses; read the bottom line of the eye chart better.

But better.

Since Friday, I’ve been taking three different eye drops, four times a day. At this point, administering eye drops has basically become a part-time job.

Morning: drops.
Later: drops.
Afternoon: drops.
Evening: you guessed it... more drops.

But something appears to be happening.

The strange horizon-indicator view I've been describing is changing again. When I look straight ahead, there is still a visible bubble at the very bottom of my field of vision.

So apparently, the complimentary vinaigrette service aboard Left Eye Airlines is finally running low. 🥗

The bubble hasn't completely disappeared, but I'm able to see a bit better through the left eye than I could before.

I'll take it.

Unfortunately, while my eye may be improving, the rest of my body has apparently filed several complaints about the treatment plan.

The antibiotics are absolutely wrecking my stomach.

I don't tolerate antibiotics particularly well to begin with, and my stomach has made its position on the matter extremely clear:

NO THANK YOU.

Then we have the steroids.

Those aren't upsetting my stomach.

They're doing something much more dangerous.

They're making me hungry.

Not regular hungry.

Steroid hungry.

The kind of hungry where you eat something and your stomach immediately asks:

"That was the appetizer, right?"

So the current recovery scoreboard looks something like this:

Left eye: improving. 👁️
Bubble: still hanging around at the bottom. 🫧
Stomach: protesting the antibiotics.
Appetite: apparently preparing for hibernation.
Arm: still healing from my recent disagreement with my prosthetic, gravity and the carpet.

The photos continue to make everything look considerably more dramatic than it feels, especially the arm. But compared with where things were just a few days ago, I'll happily take incremental progress.

And perhaps most importantly, Captain Niel seems to be getting a little more visibility from the cockpit.

We're not at cruising altitude yet.

The seatbelt sign is definitely still illuminated.

But for the first time in a few days, I think we may actually be able to see the runway.

And the vinaigrette?

Almost off the menu. ✈️👁️🥗🫧