The eye thing – part II

I think I just had an “aha moment.”  I thought they were supposed to be light-shedding moments of clarity. This brought a little clarity, but not in a good way.

We spent six more hours at Oscar’s eye doctor on Wednesday.  Six tortured, tear-filled hours where Oscar attempted to make sure we felt each and every moment in the same agony he did.  It’s amazing to me that he knows that the waiting room is safe, but the moment we cross the threshold on our way to the examination rooms, he loses it.  I think sixteen months of age is too young to understand what a doctor in a white coat means to a kid.

I thought we were going to the doctor to meet another specialist.  We met far more than one. One after one they streamed in to see Oscar’s eye – pretty much only the right one, although they looked at the left to make sure it doesn’t do the same thing the right one does.  The fact that only one of his eyes does this shaking thing is apparently fascinating to them.  Makes it all the more difficult to diagnose and all the more interesting to discuss.

Still no conclusive diagnosis; just a determination that it really is time to do an MRI.  The doctor we’ve been seeing since this summer has been prepping me for this.  MRIs aren’t a big deal for adults; it’s just that kids have to be put under general anesthesia.  I like that this doctor didn’t pressure us to do this immediately, but that he gave me some time to get used to the idea.  It’s just that they really do need to determine whether there’s a tumor that’s causing the problems or if there’s another reason for his condition.

So, the reason for the aha moment?  I just googled Oscar’s eye doctor (I did this before I first met him and I must have repressed what I saw) and something interesting came up. No, nothing salacious.  Oscar’s eye doctor isn’t just an eye doctor.  Actually, that’s not even his primary job – he’s not even identified as an ophthalmologist. He’s a neurologist with a certification in pediatric neuro-ophthalmology.  What does this mean?  I don’t know, really.  I know it means that we really are not looking at something as “simple” as lazy eye or your basic nystagmus.  I also realized that the “specialists” we saw weren’t quite as special as I had thought they might be (lovely as they were).  They were the ophthalmologists.  I looked them up – they’re top of the line pediatric ophthalmologists specializing in all of the childhood eye disorders.  They were there to confirm that the irregularity isn’t strabismus, glaucoma, etc. before we move on to examining the possibility of a brain disorder.

I’ve had it backwards from the beginning.  It’s not an eye thing.  It’s a brain thing.  I don’t think that’s a good thing.

November 28, 2008 - Posted by Oscar and Etta's mom | Doctor, Oscar