I had double vision

Our eyes are a deceptively valuable and complex organism. As with many things, it seems that we don't understand its value until its not there. Last fall, I spent 8 days with double vision. Never before, and not since, have I heard of such an illness befalling on someone who hadn't received a knock in the head.

Twenty-five years ago, I was in a tractor accident (jamesmartinswritings.blogspot. com/2009/03/tractor-accident-1985-2.html and jamesmartinswritings.blogspot.com/ 2009_02_01_archive.html) after which my eyes were pointing in two different directions. The doctors were not surprised and simply gave me a patch to wear. I wore it on alternate eyes to avoid wearing one eye out. About four months after the accident, the eyes were realigned and all was well. The only remarkable event occurred as I was walking down the hallway of the dorm at Iowa State when a young man approached me exclaiming, "Hah! You had that thing on the OTHER eye yesterday!" I’m not quick witted enough to come up with anything snappy and entertaining; I'm sure I just told him the real story.

At any rate, one day this fall, I realized that I had double vision. This tragedy didn’t exactly sneak up on me, but I was surprised. For several days, I had had a growing feeling of uneasiness. I wasn't comfortable with my eyes, but I was thinking that I was simply tired. I had been using the computer a lot—but I do that all the time, so that shouldn't have been a reason. I was in the first month of a yearlong sabbatical to study elementary literacy education, and my classes had not started yet; so I should have been getting plenty of sleep, right? Wrong. Since I had this great opportunity to read all the books I've wanted to read, and to spend time writing, I didn't want to waste any time sleeping. Therefore, I was going to sleep no sooner than midnight.

One Sunday afternoon, we went to an amusement park. It was late September and the place was nearly closed for the season—few people were there and we seldom needed to wait in line; the boys had a ball. As I drove home, I kept switching back and forth between glasses. I put on the fancy prescription, but they weren't clear. Then some drug store beauties—still not clear. Then a pair of bifocals, and they were infinitely worse; with them, I had four different views of life at the same time. I finally realized it was quite dangerous for me to be behind the wheel. Riding my bicycle was bad enough—at least then I put only my OWN life in jeopardy. Everyone else in the car was asleep, however, so I simply drove home slowly, alternately closing the left and the right eyelids.

The next day, I set off for the doctor’s office. I started to drive. Luckily, the traffic was so heavy that cars were backed up on the alley I took for a full 2.5 kilometers before the next street. It was lucky, because it convinced me to turn around and take the bus. I had to ask people which bus and for complete directions. As I was talking, I couldn't stop wondering if they could tell that my eyes were messed up. Did I look like Mel Brooks with one eye going its own way trying to find purchase on something of beauty? Did I look like Mad-Eye Moody of Harry Potter fame?

At the doctor's I said I had several problems. I had a fever, half-dollar-sized cold sores that didn't allow me to enjoy any food, and that were so painful, I couldn't sleep; I would spend the night tossing and turning wallowing in self-pity. AND I had double vision.   When the doctor asked if I had been drinking enough water, I realized that I had NOT been drinking much. So rather than take on the problem of double vision, we decided to tackle the fever, small sleep, and dehydration first. Once those were smooth, we would examine the eyes again. The next thing I did was to go to a local aptek (drugstore) and ask for some cold sore medicine. People everywhere get cold sores; they are a virus. Sure enough, I found some industrial strength numbing cream that effectively took my lips off my face, thereby allowing me to think about something else.

All this build-up comes to a remarkably anticlimactic solution. After a few days of more water and more sleep, my eyes returned to normal. The doctors were completely unsatisfactory with their reactions; it seems that dehydration is like pregnancy. When women are pregnant, it seems that their wild hormones can cause any symptom during gestation (nausea, hunger, forgetfulness—"mommy brain," super-activity, lethargy). Likewise, dehydration can cause everything from fever, to tiredness, to sore muscles, and even double vision. Even the cold sore virus may have been opportunistically capitalizing on my degraded state of immunity.

I drank more, slept more, and the virus went away. I wrote the following letter to friends and family:

Thanks for everyone’s ideas and experiences. As mysteriously as it came, my eye problems have disappeared. It’s interesting how brighter, happier, and easier life seems after one has had some weird problems. I feel invigorated now to get more done and to tackle more challenges. It’s a lot like losing something. When you find it, the world is great. If you hadn’t have lost it in the first place, everything would just be normal.

Peace,
James