On Friday, I visited my ophthalmologist. I haven't seen him for five months, which is a good sign.
I called earlier in the week to find out whether my appointment was still on. In a pandemic, sitting in a waiting room to get an injection in my eye is not the ideal situation. The woman at the clinic speaking to me over the phone indicated that safety precautions were top priority.
I asked about seating in the waiting room. Each row has four seats. I told her that I didn't feel comfortable if someone sat next to me. She said that they have measures to space people out. She also said that only patients who needed injections or were emergencies were being accepted. I felt better and went with it.
I was asked to wear a mask when I dropped by the clinic. I let her know that I didn't have one (I have since ordered one, which came in the mail after my appointment), and used a scarf instead. It worked well.
Sure enough, staff were great making sure that everything was sanitized. My regular diagnostic tests were streamlined down to my right eye, which had the issue.
My ophthalmologist was in good spirits. He said that he'd evaluate my eye in another five months and will likely stop injections. So, it is possible that last Friday was my last injection, which I am grateful.
I am fortunate that my blood vessel burst hasn't recurred. I bounced back nicely and my eyesight is practically back to what is used to be.
Switching gears a bit, I have been reorganizing my bedroom and decluttering. It's therapeutic. I feel relaxed and accomplished.
