Zoe had another eye appointment today, this time to follow-up on her new prescription. Unfortunately, while the doctor (and I) could see that the glasses were helping with her eyes, as the doctor said, it was only better, not perfect. As in all the other appointments, the doctor had Zoe look at a toy up close, and she would hold lenses up in front of Zoe’s glasses to see if the stronger prescription would straighten out her eyes. Unlike the other appointments, none of the lenses made any difference.
So in essence, we’ve done as much as we can with glasses, and the doctor brought up surgery. I knew the possibility was there. When I was being honest with myself before the appointment, I knew that it was even likely, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear or think about. We asked a whole bunch of questions, and we’re satisfied that the surgery is our next step. The surgery is scheduled for a month from today. It is apparently an easy, outpatient surgery, probably less than an hour, with a recovery of one day.
I was really shaky and upset this morning after the appointment, but I’m slowly coming around to accept that this will be ok, that Zoe will be ok, and in fact, we’re hoping she’ll be better than ok, and her eyes will start to work together so that she can start developing binocular vision. That’s what this is about, right. This is about her, this is about getting Zoe what she needs for her vision. I keep trying to remind myself that we have so much to be grateful for, that she is healthy, that her strabismus is treatable, that we caught it early. But it’s hard, I had been so hoping that the glasses alone would be sufficient.
I suppose one good thing is that the discussions with the ophthalmologist pointed out just how much I’ve grown to love Zoe’s glasses – which was not always the case. This morning, when the eye doctor said Zoe would still need glasses after the surgery, I sighed a little sigh of relief that she’d get the keep wearing them, because I think she looks so dang cute in those specs.
Still, I won’t lie, I’m nervous, sad, and trying not to freak out. If anyone’s gone through eye surgery with their kid, I’d love some reassurance.