My eyes have gone wrong. They have broken and are beginning a slow, steady decline into blindness. It’s entirely my parent’s fault. They provided me with rubbish eyes genes, which mean I’m very short sighted and therefore more likely to develop . This is because my eyes are not plump rounds, but strained rugby balls and, being forced into the wrong shape, my retinas have torn.

The result is that I need surgery. So today some fine surgeons are going to poke around my eyes, shoot them with lasers, stick placky bands around them and generally put things back the way they should be. It means I’m taking a break from, well, everything for a couple of weeks and have blackmailed my parents into looking after me (they are very good parents, they really are).

If you miss me – and I know you will – then I suggest you scoot over to Aol lifestyle, where you will find a few recipes crafted by my very own brain and, excitingly, a video of me demonstrating how to make Raspberry and Pecan Bircher Muesli. Imagine that. Well, you don’t have. You can just go and watch the video.

And if you’re short-sighted and wondering about your eyes, the chances of developing detached retinas are 1 in 20 for people with prescriptions of -6.00 and over. My wonderful optician at 20-20 spotted a shadow on one of my retinas during my last eye test. He referred me to my doctor who referred me to St Thomas’s who confirmed that I didn’t just have one detached retina, but two – I do always like to go the extra mile.

I’m profoundly grateful to my optician and, of course, to the . Hurrah for paying taxes that result at free-at-the-point of use medical care. Anyone who thinks it’s a crap system has obviously never been sick enough to feel the benefit.

See you in a fortnight’s time.

Tagged with: Detached retinasNHS
 

22 Responses to All broken

  1. Zee says:

    All the very best of luck.

  2. Linda says:

    Hope it goes well. In the meantime I shall make the elderflower cordial and king of pork pies and report back ready for your return to the computer and monitor.

  3. Sally says:

    Good luck. Eye-sight is the sense we most take for granted. Agree wholeheartedly about the NHS (as an expat).

  4. Ian says:

    Hope all goes perfectly! Long live the NHS 🙂

  5. Craftilicious says:

    Hope it all goes well. Get yourself a little bell – I found my parents appreciated running to the sound of that when I was ill – saved me shouting for water 😉

  6. Sam Hill says:

    Good luck. I hope everything goes well for you.

  7. Su-Lin says:

    Best of luck with the surgery. I don’t like those odds but hey, that’s genes for ya.

  8. meemalee says:

    Good luck, lovely J x

  9. Alix says:

    Bonne chance Jas. Hope you’ve got lots of audiobooks lined up.
    xx

  10. Thinking of you xx hope it goes well

  11. That sounds terrifying but you sound so calm about it all! Hope it all goes well and your eyes are back to normal soon. I will lend extra efforts to my support of the Save the NHS campaign on behalf of your eyes (and on basic principle) xx

  12. James says:

    Good luck. I have had surgeons prod around my eyes before. Great excuse to get looked after once it is done!!

    The NHS is great!

  13. Lizzie says:

    Good luck! Hope you’re all back together in no time. Bravo to your optician too.

  14. Zoë says:

    All the very best of luck. Here’s to your successful recovery, and hoping that the next time you’re bleary eyed it’s intentional and the result of a bucket of champagne.

  15. Ailsa says:

    Parts of your body breaking is definitely no fun. Hope you’re better soon and get some good looking after in the meantime.

  16. Ooh dear, sorry to hear this, sounds uncomfortable and worrying. Hope the surgery isn’t too awful and that you feel the benefit afterwards.

  17. I hope the surgery goes well, without complications and that you’ll be back cooking and blogging in no time.
    Personally I’m not too happy with the NHS but I’m glad to see that they’ve picked up on your situation and are sorting it.
    Did it hurt, the detached retina? You’d think you’d somehow feel something like that.
    Will you really go blind eventually?
    Fucking scary stuff.
    Seriously, my best wishes/white healing light to you …xxx

    • ginandcrumpets says:

      Surgery went well, thank you. Final check up tomorrow. I had no symptoms at all. It was picked up by my new optician, but the surgeon thought it had probably been going on for a year or more. Symptoms of detached retinas tend to be changes in vision, shadows, floating spots or flashing lights. I knew someone who had it develop suddenly whose symptom was very bad peripheral vision.

      The end result, without surgery, is blindness. It would’ve taken a while for me, but not going blind was the top benefit to having surgery in the list of pros and cons I read. I could’ve waited a few years until it became essential but I decided a bout of eye surgery in time saves nine and had it done now. I’m glad I did.

  18. St Thomas’ is my old haunt. I hope they look after you well. Rest up and hope you have a speedy recovery xx

  19. ginandcrumpets says:

    @ Everybody who left a lovely message – thank you. I was really touched by the messages I received here and via Twitter. It made a big difference to my happiness and made me brave when I was in my hospital gown. Thank you.

  20. […] I had to go for eye surgery. I’d be away for 2 weeks, and so would my housemate. The plants were carefully packed into […]

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