Shawn P. B. Robinson

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

By Tuesday, the pain was horrible. I struggled a lot with it and had to have repeated naps.

Dealing with the pain was one thing, but when the exhaustion hit so hard, we knew we faced something bigger than pink eye.

We still didn’t have an answer as to what was wrong with me, but my wife sat down with Dr. Google and spent some time searching. For all the medical people out there, you’re probably thinking, “Don’t do that! Trust the people with the degrees!” That’s brilliant advice, no doubt about it… but when the doctors are coming up empty, you gotta do somethin’!

After a short while, she looked up at me from her laptop and said, “Shawn, you have shingles.”

I went over to look at the picture on the screen and, sure enough, the guy in the picture could have been me. The poor guy had the same kinds of swelling and marks, and it was clear I was suffering from the same issue. As we looked into it, we found out that shingles in the eye is a serious issue. Permanent eye damage and even blindness can result if it’s left untreated.

We decided to once again head to the hospital, but took the time to head to a larger one in a bigger city twenty minutes away.

I had forgotten what the waiting room was like that night until my wife reminded me about it a couple of years later. The room itself was fine, but my experience was concerning.

I’m normally a relatively relaxed person, but in that waiting room that evening, I couldn’t sit still. I had to pace back and forth. I felt both agitated and as if energy was coursing through my veins, although not in a good way. I don’t think we had to wait all that long, but it was rough for me. Very rough.

When we finally got in to see the doctor, he didn’t come alone. Two doctors walked in and worked together to address the issue. They tested my eye again for Eye Herpes (or “Shingles in the Eye” if you want to sound “normal…” or “smart”) and this time the test came back positive. They gave me some powerful pain medication—the kind that prevents you from legally operating a motor vehicle—and put me on some antivirals.

They also set up an appointment for me the next day with an ophthalmologist. An ophthalmologist is a super-eye-doctor. They are the ones who operate on eyes and deal with the big issues. They don’t just check your prescription; they do things like remove cataracts and deal with people who have Eye Herpes.

The doctor they referred me to, Dr. Johnson, turned out to be one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, and I continue to see him to this day because of the damage done to my eye.

I let my church know I had shingles in the eye, and they immediately jumped into action. I still didn’t think the situation was all that serious, but they informed me they were taking care of things at the church for the next number of weeks. I can’t tell you how long they said they were going to take care of things for me—that’s one of the foggy memories of the time—but I can tell you I thought it was far longer than I needed. I assumed I’d be back up and running in no time.

When I walked into the house that night after my wife drove me home from the hospital, I wobbled as I walked. The meds were doing their thing, and I thought I was on my way to recovery.

What I didn’t know at the time was that the same virus that showed itself as Shingles had worked its way up my spine and into my brain.

Things were about to get worse.

To be continued…

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