eyes without a face

for the last several years ray has had a couple of little cysts growing on his eyelids. his general practioner was scared to touch them, so ray got referred to a dermatologist. the dermatologist didn't want to work on ray's eyes, so he was referred to a plastic surgeon.

that appointment was yesterday. ray assumed it would be simply a consultation (as the other appointments had been) but apparently the surgeon wanted to jump right in and remove the cysts. so the procedure was done yesterday morning.

i don't think the surgery was a big deal. ray got numbed up, the doctor removed the lumps and cauterized the wound. when he left the hospital the doctor told ray to apply bacitracin ointment several times a day and to use an ice pack for 20 minutes at a time. he was given no pain medication.

but when i got home at the end of the day ray was in tears. he was hunched over on the floor, writhing in pain. the house was dark; he couldn't tolerate light. i stumbled towards him and as my eyes adjusted i saw that he had the phone in one hand. he was trying to reach his surgeon to beg for pain medication. i've never seen ray cry in pain before, but he was... incoherent and sobbing in agony. as he waited on hold for the on-call opthamologist to answer an emergency page he paced, then sat, then curled in a fetal position. he didn't know what to do to make himself feel better. it seemed like he was going to go mad trying to find a position that alleviated the pain.

i immediately picked up my cell phone and called my mom, a nurse practitioner. she's called in prescriptions for me in the past; in our desperation we hoped she could do the same for ray. when i got through to her we switched phones so ray could tell her the details of the procedure and i continued waiting, for what seemed like an eternity, for the on-call doctor to pick up the phone.

ray couldn't even process what my mom was telling him. all his mind was capable of processing was pain. we switched phones; he was now on hold again, but barely had the patience to wait any longer. mom told me that she thought a topical anesthetic (for the eyeballs) is what ray needed, but she wanted to get to a PDR to look it up for sure. call back in an hour.

an hour. god, that seemed an eternity. ray was in such misery.

i hung up my phone, and ray finally hung his up, too. i picked ray's phone up and tried to call the on-call opthamologist again, and somehow miraculously got through within a few minutes. i described the situation, and one of the first sentences out of his mouth was "can he take percocet?"

i knew then that we were going to be ok.

the on-call doctor phoned in a prescription, and got in touch with ray's surgeon (who then called us to check-in herself).

at this point i had about 15 minutes to get to divaville -- no time to find a sub, no time to pick up the medication. i called mary for help. as i reluctantly headed to XDU she drove to the pharmacy, got the drugs, and brought them to ray.

when i got home things seemed a bit more calm. ray had already taken one darvocet, but then threw up (a result of the constant pain and tears, i think). he took another pill and i took a couple of photos, then he went to bed. he slept for a few hours and when he woke up he said he felt perfect. then he blinked his eyes a few times and the pain returned. he said it didn't seem quite as intense as it had earlier. he took another darvocet and went back to bed.

he woke up this morning and with his eyelids still extremely puffy and red, red eyes. he continues to cry, but it seems like it's more involuntary than a reaction to pain. he insisted on going to work this morning, which confounds me. i have a feeling he'll be back home soon.

Posted by xta at November 4, 2005 10:39 AM | TrackBack