What an eyesore

"Oh, how bizarre, how interesting and bizarre..." says Dr. Tong, examining the technician's findings. I'm sitting, slightly elevated, in an optical exam chair. Dr. Tong leans over charts filled with measurements (of what? I don't know) and my mother wrings her hands nervously. "Well," he says, "you have fourth-nerve palsy." I lean back, and for a reason I cannot recall, mutter "I gots me some palsy." to myself.

Dr. Tong continues, explaining exactly what the condition is. To paraphrase, a specific nerve/muscle combination that controls my left eye is screwed up. He stands up, takes a series of prisms from a drawer, and walks over to my mother's chair. "Using these prisms," he says, with a precise and oddly-emphasized English characteristic of non-native speakers, "I will simulate for you the way Kristen's eyes see the world." He lines up the prisms and holds them up to her eye. "Oh, my," my mother said, screwing her face up in concentration. "How on earth does she..." Her sentence goes unfinished. Dr. Tong removes the prisms and asks her what she saw. "Well, everything was doubled," she began. "But not just that. One half of something would be over here," she gestured to her left. "and the other half would be somewhere to the right and above it! I don't know how Krissy possibly sees." Dr. Tong nods. "Hold on," I say, "I don't see like that. I mean, I'll get double vision when I look in certain directions, but it's nothing so drastic as that." "Ah," Dr. Tong turns to me, "But it is!"

He begins pointing things out about me, things like my crooked glasses and the way I tilt my head slightly to the left. My mother tells him that the glasses are nothing, that I've always had crooked glasses, I have since I was in preschool, and so that couldn't possibly indicate anything. Growing more passionate with his speech, Dr. Tong responds. "Precisely!" He takes out some angle-measuring device and, holding it up to my glasses, mutters a rapid series of complex measurements to himself. "Her glasses are crooked at the exact angle to partially alleviate her condition! And you say they have been like this since she was young?" "Well," my mother says, "We always thought she was just rough on them." "Kylie always thought I had crooked ears.." I add. Dr. Tong is fascinated. "It all makes sense." he says. "The way you have bent them is therapeutic to your eyes. It moves things for you. Do you remember how your mother said things looked split through the prism?" I nod. "Well, by tilting your glasses, the lens moves things closer to where they should be. It is remarkable though, for a patient, even subconsciously, to have made these adjustments, especially from a young age!" "Oh. But if that doesn't entirely remedy my condition, how come I see fairly normally?" "Well, you tilt your head to the left, and while it is only a slight tilt, it contributes to the effect of the tilted glasses. Aside from these outward remedies, the rest is done through muscular compensation. You say that you have been diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome?" he asks. "Well, yes," I answer, "But I think that has more to do with the Ehlers-Danlos* syndrome than anything else..." "This may be true," Dr. Tong continues, nodding, "But the muscles of your left eye are working five, perhaps more, times as hard as your right eye in order to straighten out your vision. While it does not seem like your eyes could make you feel tired, this could be a major contributor to your already existent problem. You may not feel strained at this point in your life, but somewhere down the line, perhaps sooner than you think, the constant fight to see will take a toll on you. It will be too much." My mother looks at me, but I don't quite know what to say. "Furthermore," Dr. Tong continues, "your head tilt is dangerous, especially since you have Ehlers-Danlos. Over time, the vertebrae in your neck will stop looking like they are discs, and start looking like they are wedges. Your bones will change shape." "She's already in physical therapy for her back and neck!" my mother blurts out, looking overwhelmed. "Well," Dr. Tong says, "Let us explore the treatment options."

I sit back, waiting for the expected round of drugs that usually comes my way when doctors discuss my treatment options. "You have three options." Dr. Tong begins. "You can have surgery, wear prism glasses, or do nothing. I strongly warn you not to do nothing, because while it may not seem like an insurmountable challenge to overcome right now, fighting this disorder will only become harder for you. Surgery is your best option." "Well, we don't really want surgery." my mother says. "What are the prism glasses?" "The prism glasses use special glass, prisms, to shift the problem. You must be aware though, that the problem is not corrected, it is merely shifted. As Kristen currently sees, her vision to the right (with glasses) is fine. The center is mostly fine, but she occasionally sees double, and her vision to the left is awful. What prism glasses will do is shift the problem so there is no problem in the middle, less problem to the left, but the right, where there was no problem, will now have some problem. That is why I recommend surgery." Alright, but exactly what does the surgery entail?" my mother asks, clearly unsure of herself.

"Well, we don't actually take the eyeball completely out..." says Dr. Tong.



And so it looks like I'm getting eye surgery pretty soon. (I don't know how long it takes to get an appointment.) It also looks like I gots me some palsy.