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Thursday, September 10, 2015

The gift that keeps on giving


Eye doctor today, for a routine check up. I reluctantly submitted to the pupil dilation -- last time I did it was at the beginning of chemo, and I wound up watching reruns of Glee while wearing sunglasses all night. (Erm, it's possible something else was going on there too.) So I took the stinging drops, and the optometrist shined her orange light in all the corners of my eye. 

When she finished, she asked if I'd ever been prescribed steroids. I told her that I'd done chemo, and had a dose a prednisone every week for 12 weeks.

"That explains it," she said. "You have some small cataracts, especially in your left eye, that can be caused by high doses of steroids."

Wait, what.


There's nothing to do, because it's not that bad. Just a little harder to see at night, just always seems like my glasses are dirty. Those made sense when she told me about the cataracts. I can have surgery that will fix them one day, if I want.

And I'm lucky it's not worse, I'm lucky I haven't lost my vision completely. I'm lucky the prednisone was there to prevent a life-threatening allergic reaction to the taxol. I'm lucky I'm alive.

But still. I'm 31 years old and have cataracts.