by I think the spots started about a year ago. Maybe two. I hardly noticed them until the bright white of winter glared through my office window and the small, moving spots suddenly appeared before my eyes.
Appeared in my eyes, actually. To really see them clearly, I had to focus on the area right in front of me…not out the window towards the snow or sky.
White space and sunlight provoked them. They bounced with each blink.
Quickly up. Sparkly, buoyant, like bubbles and tinsel reflecting the colors that surround them.
Slowly down. Down. Down they settled.
In the dark, they disappeared.
Some time later, though, the shadows appeared.
To the side, quick as could be, they would move to catch my attention. When I turned to see them, I found myself both relieved and disappointed that there was nothing there.
Occasionally, the shadows would leap towards me, catching me off guard, causing me to jump backward in an attempt to protect myself.
From what?
Absolutely nothing.
Quick as a blink, the shadow would be gone, leaving me alone with a racing heart and a sense of confusion.
“How are the floaters?” he asked.
The ophthalmologist was referring to the sparkly bits I had been seeing.
“Oh just fine. I’m used to them now,” I replied.
“Good. Let me know if they increase in number. It’s normal to have some, but we want to keep an eye on them.”
I laughed to myself. That’s all I’d been doing. When I learned that the floaters were actually loose collagen reflecting on the back of my eye in a way that was visible to me, I realized that I really was keeping an eye on them.
“Any shadows?” he asked.
That caught my attention.
“What kind of shadows?”
“Persistent dark spots. Darkening of your vision. Like a curtain coming down over your eye,” he replied.
That’s not at all what I had experienced. I chose not to tell him about the dark, amorphous creature that had jumped at me just moments before he entered the room. Somehow I didn’t think this was the kind of thing he was referring to. I shook my head no.
“How about flashes of light?”
Hmmm. That didn’t sound familiar either. Maybe flashes of dark? Again, I shook my head.
“What does it mean if you experience those things?” I asked instead.
“Retinal detachment, possibly. With the floaters and the lattice degeneration,” he reminded of the small holes in my retina, “you have a greater risk already. We just want to make sure your vision is still clear.”
Five minutes later, I walked out into the morning sunlight.
Eyes dilated. Temporary sunglasses in place. Peripheral vision short-circuited from the pushing and prodding my eyes had just undergone.
It would be days before I saw the shadows again.
For the moment, sparkle vision prevailed.