Big Hurdles, Little Blessings

Last week Gobbles had his semi-annual visit to the opthomologist.  She advised us to bring the Lobster Roll along this time so they could take a peek.  Hubs and I both went because these appointments typically drag on, and with both kids being poked and prodded we knew they'd need some snuggles throughout the process.

We arrived about 1:00 to Nemours just as snow was starting to fall and hurried up to the Opthamology suite.  I filled out the necessary paperwork for the Lobster's first visit and paid copays while hubs took the kids to the waiting area.  Gobbles immediately decided he was bored and started clinging to me while hubs held the Lobster's hand and walked her up and down the hallway, so familiar to us from all of our visits during the attempts to figure out the underlying reasons behind Gobbles' extreme myopia. 

After the children were called we spent more time waiting inside the exam room, marvelling at how our first time there Gobbles was just 3 months older than the Lobster is now.  The nurse came in and started with some family history with the Lobster as well as any current concerns with Gobbles, so we pointed out that he holds things extremely close when he's trying to read them.  She did a quick exam with Gobbles wearing his current glasses, examining each eye one at a time.  Of course, my three year old with his matter-of-factness pointed out that I could see much better if I can look with both eyes!  Oh my buddy.

He named the pictures he saw across the room until he couldn't any more, answering with an "I don't know" or "I can't see it".  It frustrated the nurse somewhat because she wasn't able to tell if he couldn't identify the pictures or he couldn't see.   We told her to go to letters, since he knows them, but she opted to stick with the pictures, because well a 3 year old should have no problem identifying an old-style telephone, right?  Regardless, as she made them bigger he was able to identify again, so our suspicions were confirmed that his prescription had changed.  Again.

The doctor came in for a quick review ordered dilation for both kids.  Getting drops is something that's been done to me a million times, but I still cringe when I see my poor babies struggling and squirming to close their eyes while the drops are being put in, especially when there's a miss and they have to do it again.  We were sent back to the waiting room for the drops to take effect.  The kids again were getting antsy, eating the fishies I packed and chasing each other around, not wanting any of the toys I packed or having a desire to play with the activities in the hospital.  We brought them to the windows to look at the snow, then Daddy took Gobbles to watch TV in another waiting area, and let the Lobster fall asleep on my chest.  After an hour, we were called back in, only to wait about 20 minutes in the exam room.

Gobbles went first, identifying the same images he'd seen before, only this time the doctor was attempting to hold certain lenses in front of him, and at one point tried to slip them into a pair of exam glasses and get them onto Gobble's face.  That didn't seem to work very well and pretty soon we had a whiny, uncooperative kid, so she had to resort to the methods she employed when Gobbles was younger.

A few people have asked me how they do an eye exam on someone so little, how the prescription can be measured with accuracy when surrounded by so much uncertainty.  During Gobbles first exam when he was 15 months, they would take the prescription lens, hold it in front of his eye, then shine a light onto the eye.  If the light reflected from the back of his eye shone back clear and direct, then the prescription was right, if it reflected out of the eye muddled, then it was not strong enough. 

After she was finished with the lights, she turned to us with a look that said everything.  Our little boy's eyes have gotten worse yet again.  We asked at what point can they get so bad that he won't correct to 20/20 with glasses, and she informed us he's not there yet, but could be in a few years.  Again, no real answers because she still has no idea why his eyes are the way they are given that Sticklers has been ruled out.  We discussed sports, as Gobbles is getting to the age where peewee soccer and t-ball are just around the corner.  She said that his retinas still look in decent enough shape that he can play, wearing goggles, but again we need to revisit this on every appointment. 

Again I went back to the correction to 20/20, and when she thinks this would be a problem, flashing to my little guy starting school an being forced to sit up front in every classroom, or not being able to get his driver's license like every other teenager's right of passage.  His doctor looked at us sympathetically again and told us she didn't know, as long as his eyes are growing they will likely get worse, but there may be a stopping point, but we wouldn't know anything for certain until after puberty.  She emphasized that technology in medicine is changing year after year, so by the time his eyes may get to the point of no return, there may be a return.  As comforting as her tone sounded, her words still left me feeling hollow.

Hubs and I decided to stop with the questions because the more we talked, the more uneasy Gobbles became, as he is now old enough to sense our worry.  That was probably the hardest part, trying to mask our concern to him but express to the doctor that we want to know all there is to know.  Gobbles crawled into my lap for a nice hug while Hubs grabbed the Lobster and got into the exam chair with her on his lap. 

Thankfully, the Lobster's exam went stellar and she is seeing exactly as she should be for a 12 month old.  The doctor reiterated that deterioration could start at any time, but she has no concerns for the time being and we can just follow up with the Lobster's eye exams as if she were a regular kid.  Here's to hoping she's got her Daddy's eyes thru and thru.

As we placed the order for Gobbles' new glasses the other night, hubs and I were differentiating on what frames to get.  I wanted something plastic, more comfortable, since my little man falls asleep on the couch a lot with them on.  Gobbles saw a cute pair of black and red frames that I was looking at and said he wanted them because they looked like spiderman.  Hubs, expressing an insecurity I'd never previously seen, insisted that we get a pair that looks similar to what Gobbles wears now, thin wire frames (this time with those tiny nosepads, the reason I didn't want them for discomfort).  He said that he didn't want GLASSES to be the first thing people saw when they looked at our child, that the ones he had now blend in nicely as opposed the the plastic ones I selected that would swallow him whole.  He felt that there was more of a chance of Gobbles getting teased the more blatant his glasses were.  I gave in and let hubs order the more subtle ones, because I think I was taken aback by his unusual anxiety about it.  We will continue to encourage our little boy to be who he wants and not worry about his peers (who I think are all too sweet and nice to ever say anything, but I might be naive), and maybe next year we'll be ready for Gobbles to make a fashion statement.