Who am I and why do I see life clearly – now I have just one eye?
Welcome to my ‘views’ (pardon the pun). Here I will house my musings on all things eye related.
As any good communicator knows, it’s best to go back to basics. Namely, who am I and why should people care?
I am a former journalist turned comms specialist – CEO of my own business, The Power of Words.
An odd and unusual sensation
Until March 2023, life was ticking along fairly normally. Whatever normal is, as a busy business owner and mum of two girls. Until, that is, I was out running one grey day along the river towpath in pretty suburban south-west London where I live, when I noticed my eyes weren’t working together. Sounds like a strange thing to say. And the sensation was certainly odd and unusual.
Off I trotted to the local optician, where I often go as a shortsighted ‘myop’ (made up word), assuming they’d suggest a contact lens prescription tweak. I sat in the chair, with my coat still on, blissfully unaware that my life was about to take a serious nosedive. A colleague is called for a second opinion. “Yes, there’s something there.” My heart starts racing. What could possibly be there inside my eye?
What, cancer?
“You have a choroidal freckle or a melanoma in your left eye.”
“Cancer?” I blurted out.
“We are sorry these aren’t the words you wanted to hear.”
My smart watch starts to flash stress alerts. My heartbeat, clearly struggling to cope with the enormity and gravitas of the sudden turn of events.
I realised that I’d never felt true terror before. Sadness, yes. Grief, certainly. But not sheer horror that feels like it’s in your bones, rattling you at your very core.
I was ushered to a suburban eye hospital, told it was a tumour of some sort, warned it could be leaking from my brain. Something I later discovered simply wasn’t possible. And then shipped off to an ocular oncologist, and a lexical journey of discovery – learning words like enucleation, ocularist and the like, for the first time. Words you’d rather never hear.
How many children have you got?
“You do have ocular melanoma, and the only option is to remove your entire left eye. We have no time to waste. It may have spread to your liver. You’ll need full body CT scans to find out. How many children have you got? See you in two weeks for enucleation surgery.”
This is a brief synopsis of my diagnosis from my ocular oncologist – and extraordinarily gifted man, who’s ultimately saved my life. Even if just for now.
If you haven’t guessed it, enucleation = eye removal. Not your average everyday chat or verbiage.
I will save writing about my ‘shock and awe’ surgery for another time; it warrants its own place. Suffice to say for now, those 14 days were filled with horror, heartbreak – but also heartfelt gratitude. For discovering the cancer, not early, but before it was too late. For my friends and family, whose love I could feel palpably and who carried me through the fear and foreboding; in a heartbeat I discovered who my ‘ride or dies’ were. For my girls and my husband, who helped me keep a sense of humour in the dark hours. And who never treated me differently – even when I returned home from my operation with just one eye (and a glamorous pair of very dark, very big sunglasses).
Trauma clarity
It’s simply that I now see life clearly, despite my -8 one eyed shortsighted and less than great vision. There’s huge clarity in trauma; it hones the senses and reveals what matters most. It’s a shame that it’s taken the loss of my left eye and a cancer diagnosis to have this sharpened vision.
I will be writing about all these emotions, but also, what it’s like having an eye removed and living with a prosthetic. What monocular vision entails. About ocular melanoma – and why rare cancers aren’t given enough priority. Cancer stigma and stereotypes. And so much more.
In the meantime, please do follow me on Instagram. I’d love to hear from:
@seeing_life_clearly.