An Eye Opener

 I used to take pride that despite working on computers and night shifts, I remained spectacle-free till 40. Most of my colleagues had begun wearing spectacles in their 20s and some senior ones had glasses with soda bottle thickness by the time they reached 40s. The only visits I made to eye specialists were when I fell prey to seasonal conjunctivitis attacks.

Around the age of 42, I started finding it difficult to read newspapers and books. The letters acquired a blurry halo and I could read clearly only when they were placed at arm’s length. However, I didn’t have any problem while using computers, as they were placed at a distance and offered the luxury of increasing the font size. 

During a visit to my hometown around that period, I decided to visit an eye specialist. After paying the consultation fees, the nurse applied drops to dilate my eyes and told me to wait. After about 20 minutes I was called in. By then I could barely see anything clearly, everything appeared blurred with a bluish outline.

The doctor was seated behind a white gadget consisting of lenses, mirrors, and knobs. He told me to sit at the other end and place my chin at a designated place. He then switched on the machine and began examining me. I could feel a beam of light directed into my eyes. 

While the examination was still in progress, he remarked: “Do you have glaucoma? The condition of your nerves appears to be similar.”

I froze on hearing this. All my cockiness about eyesight evaporated. I began lamenting that I have not even started wearing glasses, and I might have fallen prey to a dreaded ailment - often referred to as a ‘silent thief of sight’. I was tongue-tied and could barely mumble.

After the examination got over, the doctor asked whether my parents had glaucoma. I replied in the negative. He then asked about my relatives. I mentioned that a couple of them from my father’s side had the disease. 

My paternal aunt had glaucoma and it was detected very late, leading to blindness. It happened while I was in college and that was the first time I was hearing about the disease and its dangerous consequences if not detected and treated early.

I told him I was leaving the next day for Bangalore and he told me to undergo a perimeter test, to check my vision field, during my next visit. I was too shaken by the episode and did not tell anyone home about the doctor’s hunch.

In Bangalore, I went to another doctor and underwent a vision test conducted by an optometrist. After examination, he concluded that I needed reading glasses, wrote details about the power in a paper, and directed me to the doctor. 

She went through the report and then she happened to notice some redness in my eye. She asked, “Do you have glaucoma in your family.” I repeated the same explanation - my parents don’t have but one of my aunts has. She too recommended a perimeter test.

I then booked the test at the same hospital. They plastered one of my eyes and told me to use the other eye to look into a globe-like contraption and focus on the dot at the centre. Whenever I saw a tiny speck of light in that globe, I need to click the button provided to me. After a few false starts, I finished the test and they repeated it for the other eye.

I got a glazed printout of the hits and misses I had in spotting the tiny flash of light. It appeared less than perfect to me. The lab assistant told me that the doctor was not in town. 

Meanwhile, I ordered a pair of reading glasses at an optical shop and got the delivery in a couple of days. I found it much more comfortable to read newspapers and books and got into my routine. 

The fear of glaucoma was lurking in the background, but I just didn’t have the nerve to confront it by going to the doctor. Any redness in my eyes used to trigger panic, but somehow living in denial appeared convenient. The fear of what if I had the disease used to make me jittery. 

This went on for years (didn’t dare to count) and later when reading became difficult despite wearing spectacles, I realized it was time to see a doctor and prepare for the inevitable. By this time a couple of my cousins had fallen prey to the ailment.

I went to a clinic run by a veteran doctor. The optometrist was aghast when I told him that I was getting my eye tested after seven years. He examined my eye and told me that my distant vision too was failing. I too had realized that when I went to attend a public meeting. The face of the speakers appeared unclear and hazy.

After that, I was ushered into the doctor’s room. He was an aging bald man with a pleasant demeanor.  He was a stroke survivor with a dysfunctional left arm and walked with a limp. A nurse was assisting him to move around and adjust the instruments.

He then examined my eye using the instrument and examined the optometrist’s report. He seemed satisfied with the condition of my eye and advised me to change the power of the glasses. 

I stepped out of the clinic with a cautious satisfaction that he does not suspect that I have glaucoma. I also began rationalizing that it has nearly been a decade since consulting the first doctor and if I had the disease it would have manifested by now. 

For the next two years, we were in the midst of a Coronavirus pandemic with two deadly waves and numerous lockdowns. A year later after things began returning to normal I thought of consulting the doctor again. However, when I went there the clinic had disappeared. I surmised the ailing doctor may have stopped practice or Covid took a toll. I made some inquiries with my friends living near the clinic, but they didn’t know what happened to him. 

One of them informed me that a new branch of a well-known eye hospital had opened nearby and suggested that I visit them instead. He claimed he had a good experience when he went there.

A few more months passed and I realized that my distant vision was failing. While walking on the road I could see people around 25 metres away, but their faces became clearly visible only when they came nearer. 

I visited the eye hospital my friend had recommended and moments after I completed my registration formalities my name was called up by an optometrist. 

They made me sit in front of a gadget and place my chin at a chin rest. From the eyepiece, I saw an object at a distance and it kept on shifting till it became blurred. Then they made me sit in front of another gadget nearby to carry out an air puff test. As I placed my left eye near the lens, I experienced a burst of air and I blinked in panic. Later they did the same with the right eye.

After a few minutes, they told me to meet the doctor on the second floor. My name was called in after a wait of over 20 minutes.  The woman doctor examined my eye closely and the condition of my optic nerve aroused her suspicion. She told me they appear weak and referred me to the chief doctor.

I had expected him to be fairly senior looking, but he was actually a young pleasant-mannered man with a neatly trimmed beard. He examined my eyes and said the condition of the optic nerve was a bit peculiar and tried to explain this by drawing a diagram. He explained this could be due to two reasons – by birth (no reason to worry) or due to glaucoma. He suggested that I undergo a visual field test and two other tests to get clarity.

As it happened to be a Friday, I had to wait for the weekend to get over to undergo the tests. I was getting anxious during the weekend, and kept telling myself to take a philosophical approach and follow the good old adage - “cross that bridge when you come to it”. 

On Monday I reached the hospital around the afternoon. Initially, they poured drops into my eyes and I had a mild burning sensation. They told me to keep my eyes closed.

In about two hours I completed those three tests and I must admit that ophthalmic optometry seems to have undergone a generational change. Ahead of the third test – pachymetry, they had again applied drops, and I had blurry vision. After the tests, I was told to wait for the doctor and I was calm and resigned to face any eventuality. 

Finally, my name was called and the doctor beamingly told me that I don’t have the disease. He explained that my field vision was fine, and hence the condition of my optic nerve was by birth. He even showed me the field vision of a glaucoma patient, which was pockmarked with black spots.

He advised me to carry out yearly check-ups and preserve the reports in case I consult any other doctor, as he felt they too would have this suspicion.

This would have been good news to anybody, but to me, it was really special – finally, I could shed the huge load I was secretly carrying for over a decade. 

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Covid Conversations - 2021

From cautious optimism in January to a slide towards worry and despair.

Jan 15

Person A: Hi. What's up, man. How is work? And how is the Covid-19 situation in your area?

Person B: Yeah work is going on. Now it is nearly 10 months after we got down to working from home and I heard we may be called to attend office by April. I haven't heard of any cases in our building lately. There may be some in the area, but you never get to know these days, as buildings no longer get sealed.

Person A: Yes, nowadays it is much more discreet. Earlier the street used to get blocked and sometimes we also used to have ambulances coming with blaring sirens.

Person B: The number of people wearing masks is also coming down.

Person A: And many of them wear wrongly with their nostrils exposed. Some even wear it on their chin!

Person B: It is as ridiculous as bikers placing helmets on their elbows while riding.

Person A: A friend was telling me he went on a road trip last weekend. And people in villages were not wearing masks - at the most, some had covered mouths with handkerchiefs. In fact, when they stopped at a wayside tea stall, he and his companions were looked at rather suspiciously. They probably see every masked city dweller as a corona carrier.

Person B: Overall it looks like despite many lapses we got off the hook rather lightly. The number of deaths is much lower than say Brazil or USA.

Person A: Maybe because we get a battery of vaccines after birth. Hardly anyone goes through chickenpox-free adolescence and diseases like malaria and dengue are permanent fixtures.

Person B: Let us hope the worst is over.

Person A: In many countries, the second wave is going on, but I guess we may be spared since during the first wave itself we had so many cases and our population might have acquired herd immunity.

Person B: Don't know how reliable is this premise about herd immunity. Scientists seem to be divided about it.

February 15

Person A: Malls and bazaars near my house are open with crowds close to pre-Covid levels, and even some hotels and restaurants are reopening. Some others I guess have closed for good with promoters running out of money.

Person B: But cases in states like Maharashtra and Kerala seem to be on the rise. I feel it is too early to let your guard down.

Person A: They have even announced dates for assembly elections. I hope we are not sleepwalking into a new disaster.

Person B: Our company has sent a mail saying that offices may reopen in a limited way from June onwards. We may be called up in batches and have to attend the office three days a week. Will have to wear masks, maintain social distancing and other protocols.

Person A: This may come as some relief to those cafeteria guzzlers. I remember some of my colleagues tucking in enormous amounts of food during lunchtime, and guzzle soft drinks from the pantry all through the day. I wonder how they may be managing, holed up at home.

Person B: This pandemic has taught companies that en masse remote working is possible and they can save a whole lot of money. In the pre-coronavirus days, our manager had a very dim view towards work from home and rarely used to give his approval.

Person A: WFH is at best a privilege and possible only for white-collar professionals like us. Not for those working in the healthcare sector, police department, armed forces, power station, oil refineries, and others. Even the much sought-after e-commerce services need personnel for door delivery. So a whole lot of people are still out there braving the virus.

March 15

Person A: Last week I got my parents vaccinated. I took them to a hospital nearby. It was quite hassle-free, not much waiting to get the jab. After the vaccination, they were told to wait for 30 minutes. The next dose is after four weeks.

Person B: After taking the vaccine did your parents experience and fever or discomfort?

Person A: My father experienced chills after dinner and took a fever tablet. Mother did not experience any fever. But both complained of arm pain, which lasted for a few days.

Person B: I too plan to take mine. Somewhat wary of going to hospitals these days.

Person A: Yeah man, you are right. The sight is quite unnerving, doctors, nurses moving around in PPE kits. The dangers posed by the virus and the general fear psychosis is very palpable in hospitals and nursing homes.

Person B: Healthcare workers are just a sneeze away from this deadly virus. Every day must be like going to battle against an invisible enemy. It's not just doctors and nurses; the cleaning staff, security, and the admin guys, they all are equally vulnerable.

Person A: In newspapers, we often come across some famous well-known doctors falling prey to the virus and even dying.

April 15

Person A: If we thought 2020 was bad, 2021 is turning out to be catastrophic. The dreaded second wave is spreading at an alarming speed. Almost everyone I know has some horror story to narrate. Either their family member or a close relative has been infected.

Person B: If you need hospitalization, you really had it. There are no beds or oxygen cylinders available and caregivers have to run from pillar to post to get one.

Person A: If you log on to Twitter or any other social media site, most of the entries are SOS calls for hospital beds and oxygen cylinders. People are putting up videos of mile-long queues of ambulances outside hospital gates waiting to admit the patients.

Person B: This time even well-known people like former diplomats, police officers, and TV anchors are unable to find a bed or a cylinder either for their relatives or themselves. A couple of them even breathed their last while awaiting hospital admission. If this is the condition of the privileged class, I shudder to think about the plight of ordinary people.

Person A: Cleary neither the government nor people saw it coming. Only a few states had bulked up their oxygen capacity after the first wave. Some had even wound up makeshift Covid care centres set up at stadiums and other places during the first wave.

Person B: While the Corona situation is going out of hand, there is no let-up in electioneering. Look at the crowds at election rallies and various religious events and processions. 

Person A: A fatigue seems to have set in. People are tired of following Covid safety protocols.

May 15

Person A: Our neighbour died yesterday. He was in his early forties. The guy used to wear a mask and observe all safety precautions. He has two small kids.

Person B: This is really sad. The disease is decimating families across the country. In case of infection, you can recover, but death leaves long-lasting scars. I hear even getting last rites done is now a huge challenge.

Person A: Yes. The body was taken for funeral around 10 am and they had to wait well into the evening. Only the guy's younger brother went to cremation ground wearing a PPE kit. Rest all viewed the funeral through video recording.

Person B: It's really tragic. You can't even bid a proper farewell to your near and dear ones.

Person A: Vaccines have also become scarce. Booking on CoWin site is a major challenge. I was looking for my first jab and my parents' second.

Person B: People spend hours before CoWin site and don't go beyond OTP stage. Getting a slot is akin to winning a lottery.

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