Adventures in A&E

No matter how many times I visit, the display of works of art never ceases to intrigue me and lift my spirits.

For the past eight or so years I have had injections for wet macular disease in my left eye, but in the last few days nature has had other ideas for me. A few days ago my right eye started playing up, and when I closed my eyes and opened them, I saw a large grey balloon and also something that looked very much like a blood corpuscle.

I thought this might be the start of something important, so having received advice from an optician on Saturday that I should go to A&E, I got up early this morning, came up, jumped in the car and did a park and ride, arriving at RUH Bath at about 9 am, whereupon I repaired to the restaurant and had a splendid breakfast.

You get six items for £5 and a latte for about £1.70.  I talked to a member of staff and commented on the fact that the car park was full, and he said yes, it was a terrible problem so that even the staff could not park. He told me that although he started at six o’clock in the morning, he still could not find a space and had to park off campus, so to speak. 

I went to the Accident and Emergency department to find 16 waiting people; I know because I counted. They were being called by various staff members at various times and taken in various directions. We are told by the mainstream media that A&E departments are overflowing with people with flu, but I saw no evidence of this.

My name was called after about 10 minutes of pacing around (I find it difficult to sit)  and I was triaged by a nurse who arranged for me to go to the Eye Department, saying that they have two slots each morning so I filled the first one. So far so good. 

I was seen by a nurse who assessed my condition, and then I saw a technician who had a very high-tech piece of equipment photographing my eye. The doctor then called my name and said they needed to have another scan, as the first one was not clear. I ended up being told by the doctor that I had some fluid in my right eye that should not be there, and henceforth I would need injections in both eyes at least until the problem had cleared.

I wondered if my sight would be permanently affected, as I could not see any detail, and then I remembered that the dilating solution drops that had been put into my eyes would make reading impossible for the next six hours. As I write at 8:00 p.m., it has more or less returned to normal, though my right eye has suffered; a line of print wobbles up and down.

So the whole thing lasted from 9.30 to 12.15 during which I saw four professionals. I do not know how I could manage being blind. I know many people manage perfectly well with one eye. I cannot help pondering on my mortality. Yes there are many people worse off than myself.  

Today, I decided to remove the facility for commenting on these posts. A diary is a diary, and writing to engage people and invite their response is a different kettle of fish. I hope that over the years some people have gained something out of reading what I have written and perhaps are encouraged to keep their own diaries. The writings will continue however.