Tales from the Wet Side: Part 2 Making a Living

Making a Living – by Jennifer Poole

Every time I’m in the doctor’s office on injection day – he does planned injections only on Thursdays – I’m amazed by how many people are in there. There are so many of us with Wet MD. I take some small comfort in knowing that many others will be home that night, trying to ease their scratchy, achy eyeballs, just like me.

Almost all of them are older than me, and most of them look old enough to be retired. Many of these people have driver/companions my age.

And there’s me. For those of us with wet MD and still working and raising kids, getting injections can be a very time consuming and complicated thing to factor into your life. Every 4-8 weeks or so, I need to try to fit an injection and recovery day into my work schedule. Sometimes the injection is not planned, if there’s been a fluid leak, so I need to try to plan projects at work to continue around my absence, and schedule testing dates and meetings for when I can be present. I must use up vacation time for any missed work days. To minimize this, I try to get the latest appointment they have, so I can work most of that day first. The medicine leaves a big black blob in my vision until later on Friday, so I don’t feel safe to drive or be around the equipment at work and usually book that day off.

Only my immediate supervisor knows about my condition, so I find I’m avoiding questions and comments from coworkers on being off for another long weekend. For unplanned injections, I have fibbed about why a hot project is delayed by a couple of days. Don’t even ask how I explain away my bloodshot eyes for the week afterward! My husband also has to take time off on my treatment days to accompany me and drive me back and forth. Thankfully, his company is very understanding and lets him go without question. I know he feels bad leaving them short-handed at times, but I do need him there with me.

I can’t drive that night, so I need to make arrangements for my son to get home from cadets by cab. At my expense and worry of course, he is only 13 years old. If my husband stays home to pick him up instead, then he is abandoning his bowling team on a regular basis. I don’t want to complain too much. I am so grateful to have the medicine that works to keep vision loss at bay.

I will make these accommodations gladly in order to have the treatment. I just sometimes wish I was retired too.

 Next: Tales from the Wet Side: Part 3 I’m a Person, Too!

Previous: Tales from the Wet Side: Part 1 Too Young

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