Good News and Bad News

Father had an appointment with his brother, the ophthalmologist, this morning.  He asked me if I wanted to bring RD along for an eye check-up.  

RD, who is the only one among the children that needs glasses (so far), has been hankering to have his eyes checked at the off-chance that he would be given the 'Get Out of Glasses' pass (similar to the 'Get Out of Jail Free' cards in Monopoly, you know).  He said that he can see perfectly well without his glasses.  

I believed him.  The truth is, his glasses had just resurfaced.  Towards the end of summer, right before classes started I found his glasses.  Prior to that, he had not been wearing them for several months already.

So when Father offered to share his appointment slot, I was quick to accept.

My uncle, the ophthalmologist, is married to another ophthalmologist.  They both hold clinic at the East Avenue Medical Center on Saturdays.  Their oldest son has followed in their footsteps and is currently taking over some of his father's patients at the clinic.  All three of them were at the clinic this morning.

When we arrived, my aunt and my cousin were already there seeing patients.  My uncle arrived soon after.  He had come from some conference.  Father was his first patient.  After his turn, RD's name was called.  We found out that my cousin was going to be the one to check RD's eyes out.   

RD took his seat and my cousin adjusted the lenses to match RD's glasses.  He breezed through the letters on the chart.  My uncle suggested that the lenses be removed.  Once again RD was able to call out the correct letters.  I teased RD saying that he might have just memorized the letters (D-E-F-P-O-T-E-C), so my uncle had RD read the letters backwards.  

RD was able to read the letters backwards.   

I certainly haven't memorized C-E-T-O-P-F-E-D yet.  (No, Eldest Sis, I do not cheat when asked to read eye charts.  Though if you asked me to read the bottom line, I could say, D-E-F-P-O-T-E-C without looking.)

I thought RD's eye examination was over, but my cousin moved him to another gadget where the doctor and the patient stayed on opposite sides of the machine.  He placed some drops on RD's eyes then checked out RD's lenses with the help of ultraviolet rays.  He called out some condition I didn't understand to his dad who was seated nearby.  My uncle took the doctor's seat and said, 'Yup.  Let your mom check him.'

When my aunt entered the room, my cousin called her and explained RD's condition.  She seemed skeptical at his recommendation until she sat down across RD.  One look into RD's eyes and she immediately confirmed that something had to be done.

My cousin proceeded to explain that RD's lashes on the lower eyelids were rubbing against his eyes, endangering the integrity of the lenses.  He explained that it would require RD to undergo a procedure where the doctor would have to make a small cut under the eye ... etc., etc. ... then it would require sutures.

RD had been quiet all throughout the discussion up until that point.   "I understand what the word 'suture' means,"  he volunteered, as if to say he knew that he would have to undergo some sort of operation.

My uncle explained that when the children are younger, the eyelashes are much softer, so they are not overly concerned.  However, as the children mature, the lashes tend to become harder and as in RD's case, may cause some damage to the eyes.

So my brave handsome long-lashed boy got himself a 'Get out of glasses' pass but managed to get a ticket to the hospital as well.   

We are trying to figure out the best schedule for this to happen since it would involve an overnight stay at the hospital for RD.  Between classes and exams, weekend badminton classes and my aunt's schedule, we hope to get this all sorted out before the end of August.