Keeping his eye on the ball
It's amazing how something so quick can have such lasting effects. It was the last few minutes of Steve's soccer game. His team was up 3-2 after coming from 2-0 at the end of the first half. Steve was playing defense. The other team was crowding the goal, trying ferociously to tie the game. Steve got the ball and attempted to clear the goal. He kicked it - hard. He was trying to launch it to the other end of the pitch. But the team's fast runner swooped in from nowhere and was less than two feet in front of Steve as the ball flew. The ball hit the guy in the chest and bounced backward - right into Steve's face. Steve tumbled backward.
Play continued, but I wasn't paying attention. I watched Steve as he rolled up onto his hands and knees. When he slammed his fist on the ground, I knew something was very wrong. I thought he had injured his foot or ankle in the tumble. He crawled to safety on the sidelines. I quickly joined him and asked what was wrong. The ball had hit him square in the eye.
After getting back to the chairs, he washed out his eye. A small bruise, about the size of a dime, already formed at the side of his upper lid. We joked about his pending black eye. Then Steve said part of his vision was blurry . . . and part of it was gone. That statement sent chills down my back. Gone? He was blinded?!
As Steve removed his cleats and put on his trainers, we tried to figure out what to do. He didn't want to bother going to a doctor. It was a Sunday and spending hours in an ER did not appeal. He'd go Monday. As he talked, I noticed how dark his eye was. I thought he had blown a pupil. "Look at me," I instructed. As he did so, my blood ran cold. Steve's eyes are a lovely bright blue. Normally, anyway. His left eye was not blue. Imagine a clock face on the iris. From about 11 to 1, his eye was blue. From 9 to 11 and 1 to about 2, it was lavender. The rest of it was red.
No vision. Bloody iris. We went to the ER. Steve was moved almost immediately to a room, but we were still stuck for four-and-a-half hours in the hospital. He developed a headache so bad that he actually asked for painkillers. Steve, the man who won't touch aspirin, was asking for narcotics. I knew it had to be bad.
The blunt force trauma from the ball strike had ruptured a blood vessel. The pressure in his eyeball was dangerously high, and we weren't allowed to leave until the medicine had brought it down some. He was given three different types of eye drops and instructions to make an appointment with the ophthalmologist first thing in the morning. We got home after midnight - exhausted and starving. I collapsed in bed, unable to keep my eyes open after the long drive home. Steve showered and spent the night on the couch. He had to sleep sitting up, so the blood in his eye could drain away from his iris.
We went to the ophthalmologist the next morning. The official diagnosis: A contusion injury to his retina. The bruising and swelling was causing his partial blindness in that eye. Hopefully, as the eye heals, his sight will return. The risk of retinal detachment is small, but still present. So Steve's been instructed to rest. He needs to keep his blood pressure down, so his risk of detachment doesn't increase.
It's now Tuesday. Steve's injury occurred Sunday. Although his vision has not improved, the exterior swelling is diminishing. Steve's also going stir crazy. Sitting still against his will has never been Steve's forte. And he's not allowed to do anything strenuous. So it's going to be a long day.
From Steve's initial kick to the injury took about a second. It's amazing how quickly your life can change.
Play continued, but I wasn't paying attention. I watched Steve as he rolled up onto his hands and knees. When he slammed his fist on the ground, I knew something was very wrong. I thought he had injured his foot or ankle in the tumble. He crawled to safety on the sidelines. I quickly joined him and asked what was wrong. The ball had hit him square in the eye.
After getting back to the chairs, he washed out his eye. A small bruise, about the size of a dime, already formed at the side of his upper lid. We joked about his pending black eye. Then Steve said part of his vision was blurry . . . and part of it was gone. That statement sent chills down my back. Gone? He was blinded?!
As Steve removed his cleats and put on his trainers, we tried to figure out what to do. He didn't want to bother going to a doctor. It was a Sunday and spending hours in an ER did not appeal. He'd go Monday. As he talked, I noticed how dark his eye was. I thought he had blown a pupil. "Look at me," I instructed. As he did so, my blood ran cold. Steve's eyes are a lovely bright blue. Normally, anyway. His left eye was not blue. Imagine a clock face on the iris. From about 11 to 1, his eye was blue. From 9 to 11 and 1 to about 2, it was lavender. The rest of it was red.
No vision. Bloody iris. We went to the ER. Steve was moved almost immediately to a room, but we were still stuck for four-and-a-half hours in the hospital. He developed a headache so bad that he actually asked for painkillers. Steve, the man who won't touch aspirin, was asking for narcotics. I knew it had to be bad.
The blunt force trauma from the ball strike had ruptured a blood vessel. The pressure in his eyeball was dangerously high, and we weren't allowed to leave until the medicine had brought it down some. He was given three different types of eye drops and instructions to make an appointment with the ophthalmologist first thing in the morning. We got home after midnight - exhausted and starving. I collapsed in bed, unable to keep my eyes open after the long drive home. Steve showered and spent the night on the couch. He had to sleep sitting up, so the blood in his eye could drain away from his iris.
We went to the ophthalmologist the next morning. The official diagnosis: A contusion injury to his retina. The bruising and swelling was causing his partial blindness in that eye. Hopefully, as the eye heals, his sight will return. The risk of retinal detachment is small, but still present. So Steve's been instructed to rest. He needs to keep his blood pressure down, so his risk of detachment doesn't increase.
It's now Tuesday. Steve's injury occurred Sunday. Although his vision has not improved, the exterior swelling is diminishing. Steve's also going stir crazy. Sitting still against his will has never been Steve's forte. And he's not allowed to do anything strenuous. So it's going to be a long day.
From Steve's initial kick to the injury took about a second. It's amazing how quickly your life can change.
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