This week I discovered yet another interesting (frightening? disturbing?) effect of the aging process: PVDs
To quote the literature my doctor sent home with me:
A posterior vitreous detachment (PVD) is a rather dramatic event in the normal aging process of the eye. The vitreous is a clear gel like substance that fills most of the back cavity of the eye. The vitreous gel has normal attachments to the retina, the all-important nerve layer in the back of the eye. Normally with age, after trauma, or commonly in highly nearsighted eyes, these attachments often pull loose. As a result, these attachments can tug on the retina, or pull loose from the retina, causing transient flashes of light, usually in the outer periphery of the eye and cause a sudden increase in annoying objects floating in front of the eye. The sudden symptoms of a PVD require immediate examination.
I experienced one of these “dramatic events” this week and it was not pleasant. No trauma was involved, just aging, nearsighted eyes.
Imagine sitting at lunch with your best friend having a pleasant conversation, when suddenly a blood-red blob appears in front of your friend’s face. You glance around the room and as your eye moves, so does the blob, remaining in the same quadrant of your vision.
As the day progresses, the blob changes from red to gray-black, but it remains a barrier between you and what you’re attempting to focus on. Occasionally, you manage to look past it enough to become absorbed in your work only to glance away and be reminded that you have a desperate need to clean your glasses or swat a bug crawling on your desktop.
Unfortunately, no amount of cleaning will rid you of the offending detritus. It’s not your glasses. It’s not a bug. It’s your eye.
You visit the doctor the first thing the next morning. The good news: it’s not serious enough to warrant surgery. Hooray!! The bad news: the resulting floater is right in the center of your field of vision, and there’s nothing to be done about it. It’ll probably go away … in several months.
In the meantime, you adapt. *sigh*
I’m still in the adapting phase. The floaters are new enough that it takes a good deal of work to look past them. Consequently, I’m stressed and headachy, but this too will pass. I still have my eyesight. I’m not facing surgery. I will learn to ignore the lacy black amoeba floating smack dab in the middle of my field of vision.
But at the moment, THIS SUCKS!
