Chapter Four - Medical Checkups

Chapter four
MEDICAL CHECKUPS

I never thought at the time there might problems with Charles’ eyes or ears. So when it was suggested by the professionals to have some tests done, I was concerned. They said it was just to rule out any other underlining problems. As if he hadn’t enough!

The first test was for his hearing, and for someone who may be hard of hearing the nurses was asking him a lot of questions. Charles didn’t pay much attention, just made a bee line straight for the toy box. Once his toy had been chosen the nurses encouraged him to sit down.  There was a lot of messing about with equipment but eventually they started to wire him up to the machine,

‘When you hear the noise, Charles, we want you to click that button!’ Before she could get the word, ‘Okay’ out of her mouth Charles had hit the button several times! So they had to repeat the instructions again. I was just about to state the obvious when he’d  had  enough and made a dash for the door whilst still being attached to the head phones and monitor.

‘You’ll have to work faster than that!’ I said, while rubbing his little ears from where the springs from the head phones had sprung back and folded them in half. ‘Concentration isn’t one of his strong points.’

It took over forty minutes to complete the test but thankfully his results were normal. It was about the only thing that was!

Next we had his eyes tested and it was confirmed he did need glasses and that he was long sighted. This news gave me hope because I thought if his eyes can be corrected with glasses then it may make things less frightening for him. However, on our third visit Charles had a different optician. A young girl tried to complete an eye test on him and struggled, her inexperience was apparent and her diagnosis frightened the life out of me. It was arranged that he would be sent to hospital for further assessments. After leaving the opticians my son asked whether they were going to take his eye ball out!  I knew he would ask questions because everything had been discussed in front of him.

‘No love,’ I said, with tears in my eyes. I felt so angry.

Charles was the first to break the silence again, ‘Don’t worry, Mom, I’ve still got my other one!’

How’s that for positive thinking? Not that it helped me much at the time. I felt punch drunk, as though we were in a boxing ring with life itself. God knows what must have been going through his head. I could hardly speak; I was choked by my emotions. I gave him the biggest hug and told him that whatever happened we’d deal with it together.

It had been such a long wait between the opticians saying that his eyes had deteriorated and the hospital appointment itself, I’d had nightmares about him losing his sight and day mares about how we’d cope. I kept asking myself, how can you go from having sight to having none? It’s unthinkable! I found it harder and harder to keep my feeling under wraps.

But finally, our appointment day arrived

     

9.15am: ‘Name,’ the receptionist quipped without even lifting her head up to acknowledge us. No eye contact there then, I thought.

‘Mine or his?’ I asked, feeling narked by her rudeness.

She lifted her head whilst removing her glasses to give me and my son a forced smile.

‘The patient’s would be a start.’ 

I passed over Charles’s letter and was ordered to sit and wait for the doctor to call us.

Charles headed towards the play area and as usual towered above all the other children. He grabbed at the grubby looking Lego, eager to order others around. 

It was 9.50 am before we were called in. Once in the room, he ignored the doctor’s ‘Good morning’ gestures and clambered up onto her chair to admire the enlarged cartoon figures and picking up anything else that came to hand. After several attempts to keep Charles in one place they pinned him in his chair, placed a patch over his left eye and tape over his mouth (only kidding), but you sensed they’d have liked to have done! The tests were then carried out. The conclusion was that he was very long sighted, had astigmatism in both eyes and that the left eye was worse than the right. Oh, and he had a squint. I wasn’t sure whether that was the good or the bad news!

It was then decided that more tests needed doing and so we would have to wait again for another doctor to see him.

By now it was 11.15am and still we waited.  It had been such a long morning. I hadn’t thought to take food with us, I didn’t think we would be there that long and now, dinnertime was nearly upon us. So I took Charles off to look for somewhere to get a sandwich but the nearest one to us was a juice and sweets machine. So I took the risk and hoped we would be home soon. I didn’t  normally inflict that amount of sugar on him and I did  wish I hadn’t, because back in the play area Charles picked up a toy and lifted it above his head indicating that if things didn’t quite go his way, the next child would  be wearing it.  

     

Eventually at 12.30pm we was called in to have some drops put in his eyes and then wait again while the drops took effect. More tests were done. It made his vision blurry. He didn’t like that. Not many words were spoken, just smiles from a couple of the nurses,

‘The doctor will see you in a while.’  It felt like an eternity.

It wasn’t until 1.05pm that we were called back in. The doctor said that she couldn’t see anything untoward  but would like to see him again in two months’ time to double check his vision and that his prescription would stay the same for the time being. Then she commented on how surprised I looked.

‘When I came here,’ I said, ‘I expected the worst. I had been told his eyes had

deteriorated; so, have they?’   

She said that he did have a strong prescription, but it was best to see him at different times of the day due to him being tired, but not to worry. Worry! I was beside myself.

We travelled home and Charles wore his sunglasses as they had requested, due to the drops making his eyes sensitive to light. I really felt for him.

On our next visit, two months later, I was told I would have to keep an eye on his squint due to his eye sliding into the corner too much. If it did start to slide more and it started to affect his sight then an alternative could be eye correction, but normally laser treatment for a squint is purely cosmetic and if that’s the case, it didn’t always work. I didn’t see much point then!

Four months later, the tests had shown that he seemed to be controlling his squint a lot better, they even discussed whether Charles might like to wear contact lenses when he’s a teenager, which pleased me because at least if they were talking about that far ahead then they couldn’t be that concerned, and who knows what the future holds for eye surgery. Charles always complained about wearing his glasses, and as he put it, wished he had good eyes but he religiously wore them every day and still does.

Twelve months later, his prescription had changed again not worsened. So for a while life ticked over again.

After several more visits, one became pretty much like another and again we got used to going. At least I felt safe in the knowledge that he was in the right place and if this was meant to be, then so be it. I tried to keep a positive outlook and hoped everything would be okay.

Two years later, in 2009, the hospital discharged Charles and we found another mainstream optician.

In 2015 with Charles now 16, we were still updating his glasses every year. I’m not sure I like the idea, as they are always increasing or adjusting them. As for contact lenses, I am leaving it a little longer until I know Charles will be more responsible at putting them in.