An unexpected health crisis in my early 30s became a tipping point, igniting a transformative journey that profoundly changed the way I view food, health, and the life I was living.
One morning, while I was getting ready for work, I noticed tiny black flecks drifting across my vision, as if falling from the sky. I rubbed my eyelid, wondering if I had gotten eye liner in my eye. Nah, that’s impossible, I just got up! The flecks disappeared within minutes. I brushed it off as a figment of my imagination and went about my day. The next morning, the mysterious black flecks returned, lingering for a moment before vanishing again, as quickly as they came. I wondered if I should go to the doctor, however it wasn’t painful, so I didn’t think much about it.
Then came Friday. The morning that changed everything.
As I reached for my toothpaste in the bathroom, a black, opaque ‘curtain’ slowly appeared in my right field of vision. An ominous feeling came over me and instinctively, I knew something was terribly wrong.
I went to see a doctor at the clinic who dismissed my concerns, labeling me as “over anxious” in a condescending tone. He assured me that my symptoms were a build-up of protein in my eye and not a cause for concern. However I still felt uneasy, but the doctor ushered me out of the clinic as he was in a rush to leave. Had I listened to the doctor’s advice, the outcome of my story that follows may have been very different…
That evening, I called my mom and told her what had transpired. She urged me to seek a second opinion from an optometrist. Despite the lack of pain and the doctor’s reassurances, she insisted I get it checked out. Just to be sure.“It’s your eyes, after all,” my mom said.
Taking her advice, I contacted a new optometrist’s clinic and luckily was able to get a last minute appointment. The receptionist led me to a room to wait for the doctor. A few minutes later, a handsome, younger looking man walked in the door. Dr. Patel introduced himself to me and asked what was going on. I explained my symptoms the past few days and the diagnosis from the doctor at the medi-center. Within 30 seconds of peering through the lens, I received devastating news, “The doctor was wrong. You have retinal detachment and it’s serious. The black curtain you saw the day before was your retina tearing”.
“What does that mean?”, I asked with a confused look on my face. “What’s a retina?
“The retina is like film in a camera, it captures the image in the photograph. If there’s damage to the retina and it isn’t fixed in time, you risk permanent blindness. Your tear is one of the worst cases I’ve seen. You need to have an operation.”
I was stunned. “When?”
“Right now.”
Dr. Patel asked to see the doctor’s note from my visit to the clinic. The words “Not retinal detachment” were written in capital letters. I could tell the doc was upset at the general doctor for misdiagnosing me and dismissing my symptoms as he didn’t have the right equipment to make that call. At the time, I couldn’t process that as I was in complete shock.
Dr. Patel sent me to the ER. I couldn’t believe what was happening…it didn’t feel real. Yet there I was, on a Sunday afternoon, sitting on a cold bed in a hospital gown. In that moment, I remembered I was supposed to fly out to see my boss, Mike the next day in Ottawa (Canada) for meetings. I dialled his number, not exactly sure what I would say. He didn’t pick up the phone, so I left him a voicemail, awkwardly blurting out that I wouldn’t be able to make our meeting as I was having emergency eye surgery. As soon as I hung up, I regretted leaving him that message as I knew I probably freaked him out.
When I woke up from my surgery, I felt intense pressure on my right eye. My surgeon, Dr. Hinz told me the procedure was challenging but they were successful in reattaching the retina. Due to the severe nature of the tear, they spent several hours performing all of the procedures. I wasn’t out of the woods yet, he said as there was a high risk of the retina detaching again due to gravity. Therefore, I had to lay on the opposite side of my body for majority of the day until the scar tissue from the laser surgery healed. Lasers are used to reattach a torn retina, as the scar tissue that forms helps to put it back in place. Dr. Hinz gave me a mirror to let me see my eye. A protective, clear eye patch made of plastic covered layers of white gauze. I looked like a sad pirate. Dr. Hinz carefully removed the gauze. The reflection staring back at me was shocking. My eye was swollen shut, with various shades of purple and black. I looked like I had been beaten up. In a way, I guess I had as my eyes had endured a lot.
Everything that happened next was a blur.
Over the course of the following two months, I faced a whirlwind of extended sick leave, multiple procedures, complication after complication and the risk of permanent vision loss. To make matters worse, I developed severe food sensitivities to wheat which caused intense, searing pain in the webbing between my hands and feet which kept me up at night, unable to sleep. I researched what foods had wheat and discovered it was everywhere. I couldn’t even eat a cracker without having a severe reaction.
Even after successful retinal reattachment surgery, a string of complications followed as I developed advanced cataract in my injured eye from the amount of time my eye was in surgery. I also incurred a pressure spike in my eye a couple weeks after my surgery. The feeling was like someone stabbing me in the eye. It was awful. I was told this could cause permanent damage to my eye tissue, resulting in potential vision loss. How badly my eyesight would be impacted they wouldn’t be able to tell until after my eyes healed.
Impacting very aspect of my daily life. Despite everyone at work welcoming me back warmly and offering support, returning to the office and the fast paced work culture was…excruciating. The lights were blinding, and computer screens caused searing pain (eventually dulling to simply a level of discomfort).
Every day tasks, like driving was impacted as I had a hard time with depth perception. It was like learning to drive again, adjusting to vision that wasn’t quite the same.
Friends and family were sympathetic, but no one understood what I was going through. “Your surgery was successful though. You’re back to normal now, right?”, they all said.
Yet everything was different. The glare of office lights, the sliver of sunlight on a bright day were painful, even applying eyeliner felt like drawing in the dark.
I began to develop overwhelming anxiety.
I felt like my body was breaking down and I didn't understand why.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t know if I was strong enough to overcome this.
In truth, I'd been deeply unhappy for a long time.
My health crisis felt like a volcanic eruption after years of living a life that didn’t feel authentic. I was going through the motions, conforming to expectations imposed on me from society and my Asian cultural heritage.
I yearned for change, yet I didn't believe I had the courage to follow my dreams, or make a change.
Little did I know, this health crisis would ignite the spark for what was to come…