Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Double Vision

I called central appointments hoping to see my doctor that afternoon, but after I told the nurse my symptoms she sent me straight to the hospital. It would not be an understatement if I said Kellie was very concerned about my condition – it would be a misstatement. This wasn't the first or second or even the tenth time she's had to drive me to the emergency room. She was more annoyed than worried.

When you arrive at the emergency room complaining of double vision,  headaches and balance problems, you get a bright yellow wristband that says fall risk in bold capital letters and head of the line privileges at the CAT scan machine. Kellie had taken a seat in the waiting area to study French, and as they rolled me away in a wheelchair, she asked where they were taking me. I tapped my head twice with my right index finger to indicate the area of concern. "Yeah," she called out across the waiting room, "your head needs to be examined." She loves me so much. When I returned from radiology, Kellie was gone, off to get a snack according to the nurse. I was relieved that my potential brain aneurism didn't kill her appetite.

The CAT scan was negative and the neurological exam didn't indicate a problem either. After only two hours, making this my fastest emergency room visit yet, I was discharged and told to follow up with my primary care physician. No longer deemed a fall risk, I walked out to the waiting area and looked for my wife. I didn't see her. How hungry was she? Did she go to a restaurant? I eventually found her outside, chatting on her cell phone, basking in the sun and enjoying a warm Santa Ana breeze, making arrangements for her fiftieth birthday bash, completely unconcerned about the massive brain tumor I could have had.

Kellie was obviously still irritated at having to make what she believed was yet another unnecessary trip to the emergency room. It was hard to convince her that I had a near death experience when the only medication I walked away with was a box Refresh Plus lubricant eye drops.

There will be more doctor visits in the coming weeks as we try to figure out why I'm seeing two of everything. Until then, I'll just have to make some adjustments. For example, I now have to urinate sitting down. When aiming two streams at two toilets, target selection and weapon assignment are critical and trajectory errors cause excessive collateral damage. Luckily, there's no need to change the firing procedure for dropping heavy ordinance.

There is one positive aspect about my condition. Now that there are two Kellies, I can finally have that ménage à trois I've always fantasized about. I just have to figure out where to aim my torpedo.


  1. Glad you've managed to retain your sense of humor about this. But I do hope the docs can figure out the problem. I'm sure you'd like to put this behind you.

  2. Menage a trois! While you're aiming your torpedo you might wish to brace yourself for a Kellie kick to the depth-charges.

    I hope the double image merges soon.

  3. Now I have the Foreigner song going through my head...

    That must be so weird - hope you get this resolved soon, but in the meantime, enjoy your menages...

  4. I'll join the crowd that hopes for a speedy recovery. Hope it happens sooner than later, but not before the threesome. ;)

  5. gosh between that and the colonoscopy stuff...I hope you feel better soon!