So, when I noticed an intermittent blurry patch in my left eye, I immediately booked a check-up at my opticians. This blurriness coincided with the appearance of a larger than usual 'floater' in that eye and I thought they might be connected - floaters are lines or spots that drift across your vision, caused by tiny bits of debris floating about in the vitreous humour and casting shadows on the retina.
I fully expected the optician to tell me that there was nothing wrong, however, at the end of the examination, she said, 'Well, I can see a white patch on the retina, but I don't know if it's new or if you've always had it. It might be a retinal tear.'
|Image courtesy of Pixabay|
'I'll give you a letter to take to the hospital today,' she continued.
'Today!' That must mean it was really bad.
'Or tomorrow,' she said. 'This weekend, anyway.'
Maybe not really bad, but definitely not good.
As instructed, I set off straightaway to make the Tube trip into central London, to the walk-in centre at Moorfields Eye Hospital.
Amazingly, the place was heaving. It looked as if half of Greater London had gone to the opticians that afternoon and been despatched for further tests. The electronic information board provided updates as to how many were in the final waiting area - always around 21 or 22 - and, at 8.35pm, stated that 188 people had been seen that day.
It was some small consolation that I wasn't the only one whose Saturday had been ruined and at least I was spared the 4 hour 58 minute wait that the board threatened when I arrived.
For the whole 3 hours that I was there, however, my heart was racing with anxiety as to what might be wrong. With everything that has been going on with my family of late, I couldn't afford downtime for an operation. And what if it was worse than that? - what if I had a condition leading to sight loss?
With no one to talk to and nothing to distract me, all I could do was worry.
Finally, though, I was summoned in to see the consultant and, less than five minutes later, given the all-clear. I practically danced home, in spite of my exhaustion.
The experience helped me to put things in perspective. Yes, I am under huge stress at the moment, but at least I have good health and am in a position to support my parents.
I often talk in my blog posts about 'lessons learned' and one of my followers recently asked if I retain those lessons. The sad truth is that, no, I don't. Before long, I inevitably find something else to worry about.
Perhaps, then, it's a good thing that life keeps throwing me curveballs - it seems I need these regular wake-up calls to remind me just how lucky I really am.