About 12 days ago, I woke up with my left arm almost numb. “That’s weird,” I thought to myself. I shrugged it off. When it happened again a couple days later, I thought, “Oh, I must have been sleeping on my side, so I’m putting my arm to sleep. That’s weird, too.” Two. Then, when I had arm tingling in my right arm, I thought, “Okay, that’s weird number three.”
Fortunately, I already had a scheduled doctor’s appointment with my haematologist. (I like the English spelling of haematologist because it looks more authoritative.) Besides, I lived in England for two years, so if I use the English spelling, and anyone questions it, I can sound haughty and say, “Oh, I know, but in England it’s spelled with an ‘a’, so that’s how I spell it.” Not only did I live in England for two years, my English lineage dates back to the 1600s, so, if I wanna spell “haemotologist” with the added English ‘a’, I can. I feel entitled.
Weirdly, several days before my numb and tingling arms started, I had felt a sudden drooping sensation in my eye. This freaked me out, too, but I’m sort of a shrug-it-off type of gal, so that’s what I did. I shrugged*. I also tried to make an appointment with my neurologist, but he didn’t have anything until July. I made the appointment anyway. Then, when I saw the haemotologist about my other stuff, and told him that I already had an appointment with my one-e, neurologist. He was glad. *Note to self: don’t shrug off brain things.
At the English-spelling haemotologist’s office, I was informed that, yes, having a tingling arm was weird, and yes, my eye was weird, too. (Weird is not the official, medical term, of course.) According to my haematologist, I should make an appointment with my neurologist. Neurologist doesn’t have an a in the word. He was relieved when I told him I already had an appointment scheduled.
On top of my bizarre personality, I have all kinds of stuff “wrong” with me, so in addition to seeing my haemotologist on the regular, I have other doctors, too. Neurology, haematology, cardiology, and rheumatology, to be specific. (Hey, man, I don’t see ordinary doctors, I see specialists). I take medicine that requires me to see my eye doctor every six months, too. So, in the midst of all of this arm numbness, arm tingling, droopy eye nonsense, I also made an appointment with Eye Doctor Merry, who, in spite of his name, is a little serious. He’s smart, though. Funny enough, it was this doctor, my eye Dr. Merry, who thought there might be something wrong to the extent that he ordered multiple tests and scans, MRIs, cat scans, etc. These tests were to rule out Horner’s syndrome, a rare disorder that causes eye droop. It has something to do with neural pathways and connections between the brain and the face, including the eye, blah, blah, blah. Sounds serious, hence the series of troubling tests he ordered.
Unfortunately, I thought Dr. Merry said he wanted to rule out “Horton’s syndrome,” which is a different disease altogether. Also, his hand-writing is terrible, so I couldn’t really read his notes; the testing-people weren’t so sure, either. Horton’s syndrome is also related to the brain, but with much more serious consequences than Horner’s, one of which is blindness. Blindness!
Of course, the notion of blindness is quite terrifying for people who aren’t blind, and last night I couldn’t sleep, thinking about my life and my future if I couldn’t see anymore. This is serious stuff, to put it mildly!
In the days after my first in a series of MRI’s, I tried to look at the sky as I had never seen it, admiring the blues, the brightness, and the depth. Everything I could see, in nature especially, I tried to soak up… with my eyes, eyes that may, eventually, no longer be able to see as a complication of what my husband and I had already nicknamed Horton-hears-a-who disease. “Horton hears-a-who” disease sounds much less terrifying than, “you can eventually go blind disease,” so I prefer it. Besides, when you are a shrug-it-off type person like I am, it seems much more easy to shrug it off if you use a more convivial name. If I’m going to go blind, damn it, I would much rather go blind with Horton-hears-a-who syndrome than Horton’s disease. I mean, wouldn’t you?
So, in the middle of the night, I got up to read more about that bastard, Horton…also known as the elephant in the room (so to speak). I also looked again at the notes from my Doctor, which were quite hard to read. Do you think doctors learn crappy handwriting in medical school, or does crappy handwriting lead them to become doctors in the first place? “Hmm, young Merry, I can’t read your writing at all. You should go to medical school!”
It turns out that all of the many tests Dr. Bad-Hand-writing-Eye Doctor Merry had ordered were not, in fact, to rule out Horton-hears-a-who disease at all, but HORNER’S disease, which, while still serious, does not cause blindness. Phew!
Horner’s, like Horton’s, is related to the brain/face neural pathways. Its symptoms include the eye droop thing, called ptosis, which makes sense. It also can do some pretty nasty stuff, but at least it doesn’t cause blindness. Horner’s explains the numbness and the tingling of my arms. The symptoms I have are typical in Horner’s, not Horton’s! Holy cow, what a relief! I don’t have Horton’s! Thank God! I might not have Horner’s, either, but I’m still waiting to hear for certain once I’ve had my many scans.
In other words, even though it would have been fun to say I had “Horton-hears-a-who” disease, it would not have been fun to actually have Horton-hears-a-who disease. As boring as it sounds, if I have to have a disease, I would choose Horner’s over Horton’s any day of the week. Horner’s: Droopy eye. Horton’s: blind one. The choice is simple, not that one has a choice in such matters. Further, the droopy eye thing, “ptosis,” doesn’t even sound that bad…and I know how to spell it. What a difference a couple letters can make!
Young Merry, I can’t read your writing at all. You should go to medical school!
Feisty Quill