Vision-Eye Test

Eye Test 8" x 12 " watercolors

"Eye Test" was done on 140 # Strathmore watercolor paper using Winsor Newton watercolors.

A few days passed after the injection in my eye, and my eye looked some better. It still sagged and drooped, watered, and was a little pink looking. But, my birthday had passed and my drivers license had expired. My daughter took me to get the license renewed. I felt confident because two doctors had told me in the last two weeks that my vision was good enough to pass this eye exam.

What a disappointment it was. I took in my old license, the renewal notice, and my fee, ready to keep my license. I had braved all that the doctor's office had thrown at me, so I felt ready.

I was directed to look into what looked like a wooden box. All I could see was the edges of the box around my face, a wavey, black background with squiggley green lines on it. I tried closing one eye, I blinked, I squinted and it didn't change. The clerk took me to another machine and it was no better.

"Time to see an eye doctor," she advised.

"I've been to two eye doctors in the past two weeks, and I could read their charts", I told her. "I do have sinus trouble today from the wind, and I'm getting over a little eye infection."

She told me that I had two years, and to come back and try again when my eye was better.

I didn't want to tell her that my eye may not get any better, but only worse. Still, I should have been able to see something. I didn't know what was wrong.

"Just don't get caught driving with an expired license," she advised as we left.

I was dejected, to think that I couldn't drive anymore. I got my license when I was 12, and had started driving when I was 8, although that was a bit reluctantly. Daddy insisted that I try to drive the war surplus Jeep he had bought. Scared both of us silly when I drove up a little hill and into a neighbor's yard when I tried to carefully turn a corner! So, he made me drive the tractor out in the pasture, to learn how to drive better. As long as I could remember, I either sat in someone's lap while they drove, or stood on the seat beside them. I guess my driving career might be over. Good thing I liked to ride around in the back seat and talk to the grandsons , or look for pictures to draw, while someone else drives. Still, riding in a car is not that fun anymore, with all the distortion and strange things I see. I hadn't been driving since I didn't have to go to work anymore, and, even then, I preferred to have my daughter drop me off at work. And, when my knees started bothering me, I quit driving. Still, not having a license is not a good feeling-just in case I should need to drive and my eyes were better. Maybe, if the eyes and knees get worked on, I can drive again.

It was like one more thing had been taken away from me. One more stone in the path to the end of life. I tried to stay as cheerful as I could reminding myself that it was better to let someone else do the work while I enjoyed looking for pictures, taking photos, drawing, talking to the kids. Still, I knew that, if I just wanted to take myself for a ride, or I needed to go somewhere, I had to wait until other people could, or would, take me. Sometimes it's easier to just stay at home.

I hope that this one goes through. I've had trouble "publishing" or posting the last three posts. I finally got the first one to work. I gave up on the one I was going to send today, about Saturday nights, and will try that some other Saturday. I had to delete what I wrote about for this one, and I'm rewriting it shorter. I think the problem comes when my internet can't find the server, or something of that sort. Computers are a mystery to me. I did print and save the original story, so I have them to keep with my pictures.

The painting today looks like some sort of Egyptian design rather than an eye chart. But, that's how it appeared to me.

Today, I heard an interesting program on tv with an author who has a book out on a man who was blind since age 3. The blind man has had surgery which restored his vision somewhat. Colors and patterns were fascinating to him, but he didn't have the depth that he needed. So, he was having trouble with 3-dimensional things, like faces. I am putting a link to the author on my page in the Authors and Artists section.

Enjoy, and pass my address on to anyone who you think might be interested.

Vision-After The Shot

Today's painting may not be so easy to look at. I wanted to give a little warning, just so you will know. Actually, it's very colorful, if you look at it from that standpoint, rather than to think of the subject matter. I'll put the painting at the end, this time, just in case you can't bring yourself to look.


It was Friday. The day the doctor spent at another office out of town. No appointments for that day here, of course.
I got up, put the cool drops in my eye, took my medicine, and settled down with a cold washcloth on my eye on the couch. When I went into the bathroom to dress, I looked into the mirror as I washed my face. Something I had tried to avoid doing. I didn't like seeing my eye with the lids drooping a little, and a bit pink from irritation.
"Oh my goodness!" I gasped when I saw my eye. The white part was bright red and looked like it was almost hanging out. The bottom lid was red, sagged, and had a "bag" underneath. The top lid was also drooping and hanging at an angle. The corners of the eye looked as if they were about to pour out blood, they were so red. The green iris almost glowed as it stood out against the contrasting red background of my eyeball. There was little light reflecting from the lights above the mirror, just a couple of dots of light on the edge of the iris. The pupil was dark and enlarged.
I thought that, if the eye was going to turn red, from the doctor hitting a blood vessel during the injection, it would have happened right away. But, this was something different, I thought. Several days had passed. At least that is what I understood from what they had told me in the office the day I got the shot.
I called the doctor's office, realizing that he wasn't there. But, they had told me to call right away if it turned really red.
"Oh, that's very common," the receptionist advised. "I've had three other calls today from people who told me the same thing. Just put cold packs on it and take some Tylenol if it hurts too much. You have an appointment to get it checked next week. We'll see you then."

I was not comforted. I guess things were not as urgent as others made me think they were. First, the Opthamologist had wanted me to get in to see the Retina Specialist right away. He said my eye was not bleeding yet, so it was imperative that I get in to see a Retina Specialist immediately. He made the call himself, to make sure I got in to see someone before blood started leaking. Once that happened, he said that it couldn't be fixed. Right now, there was just fluid, which was bad enough. But, that, too, was Friday and the specialist was out of town. They didn't seem concerned in the other office and Monday would have been fine. All weekend I wondered and worried about what was happening to me. Was my eye going to start bleeding? Was I going to be blind by Monday? I didn't know what to expect. Anxiety had time to set in.

And, now, after being told to call right away if my eye turned really red, I had called and been told to just take some Tylenol if it hurt. Another Friday, and the specialist was in his other office in another town. Of course, things always seem to happen on weekends, when doctors' offices are closed.
Tylenol and those new medications don't do a thing for me. If it hurt too much, I would take some old reliable asprin. But, it didn't hurt any more than it had been -more annoying than pain. I just kept trying to brush away pieces of hair that felt like they might be hanging in my eye. The cold cloths and cool eye drops seemed to take care of that. It was uncomfortable to bend over, but that was more like pressure than pain. I would just try to stay quiet, still, watch tv, put the cold cloths and drops in my eye, and wait. And wonder.

After The Shot 8" x 12" watercolors

The yellow shows up more in this painting on my blog. The orginal doesn't show this much yellow, but, instead, has more orange, pink, and flesh tones. This was painted on 140 # Strathmore watercolor paper using Winsor Newton watercolors.

Vison-Ready To Go

Ready To Go

8"x 12"

Watercolors

and acrylic

The darkness faded away to boiling clouds of smoke-colored fog that filled the room. I could see the cabinet with a chair beside it, the door frame, and the mirror where the eye chart reflected. And, I could see my feet with my black walking shoes on the foot rest of the examining chair, poking out from the fog.

I could see the letters on the eye chart, just like they had appeared when I had looked at it during the exams. The letters were not clear with shadow images appearing behind and to the right of each letter. Smaller letters toward the bottom were blurred and were indestinguishable. Still, the doctor had said that my eyesight was good enough to pass the eye exam for the driving test.

The technician had told me, as we were signing papers before the injection, that they would give me some eye drops to take home with me and to use them every 4 hours, as directed. He said it would help if I kept them in the refrigerator. They would be soothing to my eye, if they were cold. He also advised me to use cold washcloths on my eye if it started to be uncomfortable. He explained that some people said that they felt like there was something in their eye, like a grain of sand. And, he told me that my eye may turn very red, if the doctor hit a blood vessel when he gave me the shot. But, that was nothing to be concerned about. It was normal. He also said that I might experience pressure on my eye, but it would not hurt to get the shot. They were doing lots of deadening. (Of course, I had not really believed that. My heart was pounding. I felt hot, anxious, a little sick at my stomach. I may faint. Even after the shot.)

Dressed in blue sweat pants (I guess they were scrubs but they looked like some kind of excercise outfit, to me, instead of a professional looking nurse uniform) and a patterned smock top, the nurse came in the room. She took a small, round object from the cabinet and came over to me. She put the insrument on my eye and quickly removed it. She turned back to the cabinet, put the instrument down, and walked to the door.

"Okay, you can go now," she said as she walked out the door.

I thought that was a little odd. She wasn't very friendly now. Before the shot, she had not been exactly warm, but she had been sort of in the background, with the techician and the doctor closer to me. She could have, at least, asked me how I was doing, or commented on something like the fact that it was all over and I was doing just fine.

I stood up slowly as my daughter arrived at the door. "Ready to go?" she asked.

"I guess so," I answered. I thought the doctor might have appeared to reassure me, but the hall was empty. I had to use my walking cane for a little while since my knees bothered me after sitting. We walked to the reception desk. Water ran from my eye and I used the tissue to blot the tears on my cheek.

"Here's your card for your next appointment," the receptionist handed me a card, which I couldn't read. I thought it was from my eye watering. I handed it to my daughter. I thought that, maybe, this is why they wanted you to pay before seeing the doctor. You might not be able to write a check after seeing him. But, of course, the person with you could take care of that.

"He wants to see you in a week to check how your eye is doing. If it turns really red, call us right away." She turned to talk to the person working beside her.

We went out to the car. My daughter was driving.

"The drops!" I said. "I thought they were supposed to give me some drops. I didn't get anything."

My daughter went back into the office and returned with a small bottle of eye drops.

I had read, online, about someone who had a shot in their eye. They said that, after their injection, riding in the car really bothered them. They finally solved the problem by just closing their eyes for the trip home. Now I understood what they meant. Things seemed to just whiz by, if I looked out the side windows, almost making me seasick. Light reflected off the back of parked cars like big, bright, half rainbows. The bending and distortion of objects also tended to make me a little sick at my stomach. I closed my eyes and held the tissue over my eye. I didn't like to ride this way, unable to see where I was going and what was around me.

At home, I put the drops in the refrigerator and fixed a cold washcloth to put on my eye. I walked to the couch in the den, sat on the reclining section of the couch, took off my shoes, and put my feet up. I turned on the tv to watch an old movie. I would spend a lot of time here, with the cool washcloth on my eye, listening to an old movie, in the next few days.

I didn't have nerve enough to look at my eye until later. At least we knew the answer to what would happen when they put a needle in the eye. It didn't deflate, fall out, or have all the juice inside to run out. I remembered being cautioned so often about standing on a chair and holding a coat hanger. I was told that an older girl had put her eye out when she was on a chair, with a coat hanger, and fell. So, wouldn't a needle also make one have to get a glass eye?

I couldn't help but think about the rhyme we used to say as children. "Cross my heart and hope to die; stick a needle in my eye." This was about the strongest promise one could make. I never dreamed anyone actually would do that, for legitimate reasons. But, I had just had a needle stuck in my eye.

When I finally did get the courage to look at my eye, I was horrified to see the bottom lid drooping some, and the top lid hanging a little. It was only a little pink in places, so I was sure that the doctor had avoided hitting a blood vessel. I guessed that it would clear up quickly. He had done a good job. The drops and cold packs would probably tighten the lids up again, and make my eye clear up soon. It did feel a little like something in my eye, like a piece of hair, perhaps. So, I kept pushing hair away from my eye-some of it real, some of it just the way my eye felt.

I had survived the shot and now looked forward to going back to the doctor to get it checked in a week. Hopefully the extra blood vessels would have stopped forming, the bleeding avoided, and my vision would start improving. I tried not to think about the injections that had been scheduled for every four weeks during the next year-possibly two years. I needed to think about the positive, and the "right now", and not dreading the rest of the shots. Hopefully, they would all be as easy as this one had been. Still, I was a bit uneasy about how long it might be before the discomfort would go away and I could see better. It was manageable for now. Soon, I may be able to continue drawing, painting, writing, and riding in the car with less distortion.

"Okay, You Can Go Now" was painted on 140 # Strathmore watercolor paper using Winsor Newton watercolors. Acrylics were used on the eye chart.

I hope that you will share this with anyone who you think might be interested. I am curious as to what others with AMD, or similar problems, experience. My original idea in starting a blog was to share what I have experienced so that others might be better prepared when it happens to them, or that others might relate to what they, or those they know, have already experienced.

Other subjects and memories will be posted on my blog, but I thought it best to post my AMD experiences in order, as they happened. You can see some of my other art work on my Google group, Art -By-Cecelia. I hope you will jon that group and get updates when I have added something to my blog or pages. Also, take a look at the interesting Authors and Artists, and Interesting Sites section of my blog. Check back when you have time, and enjoy!

Vision-Male Brown Eyes

Male Brown Eyes
Looking At me
8" x 12"
watercolors

The pink swirling clouds that seemed to fill the room after the injection in my eye began to fade to an area of soft light. The female green eye that was revealed in the center of the pink clouds, now changed to two brown male eyes with a little more of the face showing. The skin became more beige or cream colored, where it had previously been the skin tones of someone with red hair. More of a realistic, light flesh tone, now. The entire area showing both eyes, eyebrows, and a bit of the nose, cheeks, and forehead, were directly in front of me. There was a slight tinge of orange on the eyeballs, in the corners and around the lids. Light reflected in the large pupils.

I pushed my head back against the headrest. It was uncomfortable to have this face so close in front of me. But was it really even there?

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

No answers. He just stared at me. He was unfomfortably real.

I was sure, logically, that no one else was in the room with me. But, still, this face was right in front of me. It had changed form from a sideview man with blue eyes and red hair to that man's eye, turning to look at me. Then it had changed to a female green eye, and now it was a male with brown eyes, and both his eyes were staring at me.

I still waited alone, for someone to tell me everything was alright and I could go home.

All I could do was to enjoy the art show, and hope it would soon be interrupted and come to an end. It was keeping me entertained while I waited. Maybe there was someone here with me, to keep me from being being so nervous about the shop, someone to keep me from being bored since I couldn't entertain myself with drawing or even looking at a magazine. Perhaps he was trying to send me some sort of message. Perhaps he was not there at all and was just medicine from the shot floating around in my eye. He seemed too real to be just bubbles of liquid floating around inside my eye.

"Male Brown Eyes" was painted on 140 pound Strathmore watercolor paper with Winsor Newton watercolors. Again, the yellows show up in the scan above, more than they do in the original painting.

Vision-Female Green Eye

Female Green Eye
Looking At Me
8" x 11"
watercolors

"Who are you?" I still wondered who and what that blue eye was, surrounded by pink and purple clouds, filling the room in front of me. He just stared at me. I didn't know if there was a whole person in the room with me, hidden among the clouds, or if this was some sort of projection, or was it merely medicine spreading out in my eye after the injection I just had.

"Is this typical after getting a shot in the eye? Is is just in my mind, or am I actually seeing something? " For those who like mystery stories, this was certainly something strange. I didn't like mysteries, or scarey things, for that matter, so I wanted to know without having to try to figure out what was going on.

I was waiting in the examining chair after my first injection in the eye by the retina specialist. I was supposed to sit for a while, then they would return to check the pressure in my eye. If everything was okay, I could go home. But, as I waited, I was experiencing what I began calling an abstract art show. First bubbles appeared on a dark, foggy background. That was replaced with darkness in the room with colorful, rectangular confetti that rained down in front of me. As it lightened, pink swirling clouds softened in the center to reveal a man's eye that looked away, then slowly turned to stare at me. I knew, realistically, that I was alone in the room. So, why was I seeing what appeared to be someone in the room with me? I wasn't thinking of anyone, and I didn't recognize him. I didn't feel that it was someone I knew or was thinking of in this rather stressful time.

As the pink clouds continued in front of me, I tried to look closer to see if I recognized the man in front of me. The image didn't move, but it seemed to change into a green eye, and one that looked more feminine. In fact, as I thought about it, and tried to examine the face, this eye looked familiar, too.

"Can this be my own eye I am seeing?" I was astonished to think that maybe now I was seeing my own eye, as if it were in front of me. How could that be? There was no mirror. Whoever it was, this eye was definitely more feminine. The iris was green and there was a reflection in the pupil. The eyeball wasn't bright white, but had a yellow tint to it with a slight bit of red around the lid and the corners. The eyebrow had a little lift to it and there was a bit of puffines below the eye. The lashes were a bit longer than in the male eye.

"What next?" I wondered. "Isn't this about over? Surely the doctor is going to come back soon.

"Female Green Eye: Looking At Me" was done on 140 pound Strathmore watercolor paper using Winsor Newton watercolors.

Vision-Male Blue Eye Looking at Me

Male Blue Eye Looking At Me 9" x 12" watercolors
The pink and purple clouds continued to swirl and fold over after the injection for Wet Macular Degenertation in my left eye. I was still alone in the examining chair, waiting for the doctor, who was a retina specialist, or his nurse, to return and tell me if everything was okay and then send me home. They had told me that they were going to let me sit a while, then would return to check the pressure in my eye. If everything was okay, I could go home then. My daughter had left to pick up her sons after school and would return. This was taking longer than she had planned. We thought that there would be a quick shot in the eye, then I would be sent home, if my eye didn't deflate, fall out, or if I fainted or something we couldn't even imagine.
I had gone from seeing bubbles in a dark fog, to confetti raining down in the dark, and a pink swirl of clouds with part of a man's face appearing in the center. He couldn't be there, I knew, but I was seeing him. And who was it that I was seeing? I struggled to try to remember who it could be.
My fear of the shot was fading a little, and, now, I wondered if this person in the room with me was something to be afraid of. Was I dead or dying and someone was here to take me away? Was it someone to comfort me? Is this someone I know or knew? Or could this be something evil to fear? Could this even be Jesus, not looking like the pictures in the Bible or in church, but more like an average person today? Was I about to have a religious experience?
As the clouds continued to float in the room, the face slowly lifted his gaze and began to turn until he was facing me. He looked straight at me, staring, unblinking, steady.
"Who are you? What do you want? Are you really here? Do I know you?" I whispered.
No answer.
"You aren't really here." I thought it might vanish if I confronted whatever it was. But, it remained. Just an eye, and the surrounding area, staring at me. He had the coloring of someone with red hair and his eye was a bit red as if from lack of sleep or drinking-maybe irritated from allergies, or even crying. There was no pupil that I could see, but a light reflected in his blue eye. I thought it was from the large light that the doctor had used above my chair. But, wasn't that light turned off when everyone left? His eyebrow was lifted a little. Was he questioning? Examining? Friendly? Disgusted? Accusing? Sad? Evil?
I was a little frightened, but I didn't move. I just looked back, then tried looking away. He was still there, a little further than where the doctor had stood in front of me.
"Tell me who you are!" I demanded. "Why are you looking at me?"
No answer. He just looked at me with that blue eye.
I felt that I may have seen that eye before, but where? And who did it belong to? I wished that the doctor or nurse would come back so this whatever-it-was would either go away, or this thing would have to show its whole self to all of us. I hoped for an explanation.
Was I dying, having a hallucination or a reaction to the medicine, going crazy? Perhaps this was someone who appeared to comfort me, to take care of me, or maybe it was something entirely different-something evil and frightening. Angel or devil. Or some kind person from the past.
I didn't dare to move too much, but I sat, holding onto the chair arms and wiping the water that ran from my eye to my cheek with the small tissues I had been given.
Thinking of the other things I had seen, beginning with the bubbles, I felt that I should just try to relax, sit back, and enjoy the art show that I was passing in front of me. A special show, just for me.
I was still a little hot, at times, but thought that it would be good to take a deep breath, avoid fainting, and enjoy the parade of different kinds of pictures that were coming before me. My own private art show. One that, perhaps, no one else was given access to see. I had seen things that seemed abstract, and, now, this part of a face that I was seeing was almost classical and realistic, somewhat like the beautiful ancient Roman and Greek sculptures, the paintings and sculpture of Michaelangelo, and others who were able to portray the human figure so realistically.
The skin in this face seemed to be touched with a little gold and the clouds were pink, with the exciting Cobalt Violet where the clouds rolled over.
While I sincerely admire realism, what comes from within me is more expressionistic. Instead of fearing this eye I was seeing, maybe I should just admire and appreciate its classical qualities.
Still, I couldn't help but wonder who I was seeing and why.
"Male Blue Eye Looking At Me" was done on Strathmore 140 pound watercolor paper using Winsor and Newton watercolors. The pale purple color is Cobalt Violet. I used touches of thinned white acrylic on the edges of the clouds. In some places, in order to lighten or lift color, I simply blotted with tissue while the color was still wet.
The above doesn't show the true colors of the painting, completely. In the scan shown above, the yellow is strong and the eye appears to be more green than blue. In the actual painting, the yellow area around the eye is more flesh colored and the eye is definitely blue.
(At least it looks that way, to me. One of the problems with AMD is that people have problems distinguishing colors such as dark blue from black. I always thought that was part of aging and that most people have it after a certain age. I've had that trouble with my clothes, especially, for quite a few years. If I take them into sunlight, I can tell which socks are blue and which ones are black, but in normal light that is hard to differentiate. Since I learned that I had AMD, I find that I also have trouble sometimes with colors like light beige and lavender. It could be the cataracts as well as the AMD, not to mention that little muscle in the eye that becomes slow to focus as we age, and was the cause for me having to get reading glasses and bifocals about 20 years ago. Now, I'm reading things, except for very small print, without glasses. At least I can when I am close to what I am reading and there isn't too much waving, distortion, blurring, bright lights, or that annoying purple spot that sometimes appears in the middle of what I am trying to see.)
Most of the time, when I scan a painting, if it is small enough, I just put the original on my scanner. For larger things, I either scan them in parts or scan photos. On my computer, the colors are more true. I've noticed that when I add them to the blog, occasionally, the colors are a bit different. I will try to note a difference when I post.
It would be interesting to find out if others have had similar experiences when they had injections in the eye. Could it have been the medicine, as the doctor had said about the bubbles? Or perhaps this was something akin to the out of body experience I had when I had surgery a few years earlier. I wasn't anesthetized during this event, though. I did have eye numbing medicine put in several times. Other people had told me that they would probably give me something to calm me down and relax me before they started, but that didn't happen for me. I told them I was scared and the doctor only answered that this was normal, and went on about what he was doing. He seemed to be an excellent doctor, and highly prepared and skilled.

Vision-Male Blue Eye Looking Left

Male Blue Eye Looking Left

in a pink cloud

8" x 12" watercolors

The injection in my eye was over. The doctor, nurse, technicians, all had left to go about other duties. I was alone in the examining chair, seeing only darkness and a rain of confetti.

"Where was that coming from? " I wondered. I knew, realistically, that there was no confetti falling in that room.

Just as I thought about leaning forward to see if the confetti would move, the dark fog began to lighten, starting to my left. The dark was soon replaced by pink and soft purple clouds rolling around.

"Maybe this is about to clear up!" I felt a little relieved that the darkness was going away. Still I was hot and anxious, and my stomach hurt a little. I guessed it was just from my fear.

The pink clouds began to clear a bit in the center and a man's face appeared. The image started out to be unclear with colors not so distinct. I couldn't decide on the coloring in his hair and skin as I tried to think of who this might be in the room with me.

"Who are you?" I wanted to ask. But, I didn't think there was a whole person there-only a part of a face, the rest was hidden in the cloud.

"Do I know you?" I struggled to recognize the silent, staring face. He just kept looking off to the left, straight in front of him. I thought that he looked serious. If I could have seen that part of his face, his lips would be tight and his jaw set. Was he angry with me? About to fuss at me? Was he just grouchy, whoever he might be? I knew he wasn't happy and smiling.

"Are you Louis's dad?" I asked. But, I caught myself, wondering why on earth the neighbor who lived behind us would be here in the room with me. I thought his hair and eyes might be brown, thinking he might be Mexican like the family who lived behind us. But, It can't be. I haven't even seen them in a few years.

The clouds continued to swirl and the center opened a little more allowing more of the face to show. I could see that the man had blue eyes and red hair. He still never looked at me, just floated there, staring straight ahead of him. I got the feeling that he was disgusted with me, or at being there.

"Why are you here?" I knew that it couldn't be real, and didn't ask out loud. But, what was it?

There was no answer. The clouds continued to swirl, and he continued to look off to the left. I didn't know if I should be frightened, or what. There was no one to ask.

"Male Blue Eye" was done with Winsor Newton watercolors on Strathmore 140 pound watercolor paper. While some people may not find some of my paintings nice to look at, they do show what I experienced.

I hope you will look at the Authors and Artists, and Interesting Sites that I have added to my page. Enjoy. And share with others who you think might be interested.

Vision-Ooo, Bubbles!

Ooo, Bubbles!

It's the Medicine

8.5" x 12" watercolors

The shot was over. I had not fainted, or died. And, it didn't hurt. In fact, I didn't feel it. The most discomfort was in having the doctor's hand and face coming toward me. I had been told that I would probably feel a little pressure, like someone pushing on my eye. But, the doctor was kind, fast, and skilled so the injection was over before I knew it had happened. And he was able to hide the needle so that I didn't see it.

"We'll just let you sit here a little while, then come back and check the pressure in your eye before you go home, " the doctor was working at the counter.

I dabbed at the tear running down my face with a tissue I had been given earlier.

"If the doctor hits a blood vessel when he gives the shot, you may have a really red eye for a few days. But that's normal, nothing to worry about. " The techincian advised me. "We'll give you some drops for your eye that you must use as directed. If you keep them in the fridge, and use them cold, that will be soothing to your eye. Cold wash cloths will help too, if it should bother you. Some people say that it feels like something, like a grain of sand, in your eye for a few days. That's normal. Call us if you have a lot of pain, or if your eye gets extremely red. Otherwise, just go about what you would normally do."

"We have a lot of patients with the same thing. It's becoming very common as the population ages. You're lucky that they have come out with this new treament. And, you're lucky that you have the wet form, and it isn't bleeding yet. There is treatment for the wet form, but not for the dry form, " he had told me earlier. "I would say that about 75% of our patients have AMD."

I remembered that the doctor had told me that I would not lose all my vision. I would not go completely blind, but I would lose my center vision. This new treatment promised, for some, that vision would be improved, in some cases, and the destruction of center vision stopped.

It had already gone further than I needed to lose my vision. I was having trouble reading signs, watching tv, writing, connecting lines in my art work, and lights sometimes bothered me. Sometimes, the computer monitor seemed too bright, while the tv seemed to be too dark or distorted.

As the doctor walked to the door after finishing whatever he was doing at the counter, my vision was changing. It was getting dark and foggy, with a light in front of me. I think they dimmed the lights in the room, where I was supposed to be waiting. It may have been just what was happening to me.

"Oooooo! Bubbles!" I blurted out as the doctor stood at the doorway. I felt a little giddy, playful, as I said it, but quickly thought that sounded so childish. Why did I do that! It was how I felt. Very surprised! And I let it out instead of controlling my urge as I would normally do.

In the middle of the lighted area in front of me, bubbles appeared and floated around. Bubbles of light or liquid, touched with silver light.

What on earth was happening! I knew those things were not there, so why was I seeing them.

I could see the shoulder of the doctor's white smock and part of his jaw in the darkened doorway.

"It's the medicine," he said softly, as he walked away.

I was getting hot, my stomach hurt a little, my chest felt tight, my heart was pounding. I wished I was not in that room by myself in case I was about to faint. Then I felt a little cold. Clammy, I guessed, since I had been hot and cold.

What would happen next? Hopefully, my vision would go back to normal and I could just go home quickly.

"Relax," I told myself. It didn't help much.

I thought that, maybe I could make the bubbles bounce and move around, the same way I did the floaters in my eye when I discovered them. When I was in a boring meeting, trying to stay awake, or trying to entertain myself when I couldn't draw or write, I would "play ball" with the biggest floater in my eye. I would bounce it from one side of the "court" (my eye) to the other, learned to dribble it, weave, throw, and things I remembered from high school basketball. Or, I could pretend it was a tennis ball and play a game with the floater-bounce it right over the imaginary net in the middle of my eye.

(That reminded me of our imaginative Modern Dance teacher in college who, one day, pretended to draw, or pull, an imaginary curtain across the room. All those who were on time to class were told to stand on one side of the curtain. Since we were there, we knew what she meant. But, the poor latecomers, who were told to stand on the "correct side of the curtain" when they came in after the bell rang, just stood dumbfounded, not knowing what to do. Everyone thought the poor woman had completely lost her mind! There was no curtain there, just the hardwood floor in the center of what had once been a swimming pool. )

These bubbles wouldn't cooperate, though. They just went where they happened to float. Sometimes they divided, covered parts of others, moved apart, but, once they appeared, they just seemed to cluster together, shimmer, and float.

I hoped that this would go away soon. It was a bit frightening because I couldn't see anything else, except this dark fog, the light area, and the bubbles. It was a bit annoying, too, especially since I couldn't even play with the bubbles while I sat there with no one to talk to.

At least, it didn't hurt. The side of my face with the eye that had just been injected just felt a little bit big or heavier than the other side. But, that was very slight.

There are quite a few websites with information on Macular Degeneration and similar vision problems. And a few artists who also have, or did have during their lifetimes, AMD. Georgia O'Keefe was one famous artist who developed AMD. Monet was another. They were able to adjust and continue to develp their art the rest of their lives.

At this point, I was more concerned about what was happening to me right now, and what was about to happen as a result of the shot I had just had in my eyeball. And, what about all the other shots that I was scheduled to have. Well, if it would help, I would just have to steel myself. I didn't think I could manage without good vision.

Be sure and look at the links I have added in my Authors and Artists , and my Links sections. I think you will enjoy their work, and the information provided in their websites.