Tomorrow is a pressure check for Robbie. Ocular pressure to make sure that his glaucoma is under control. I will stay home from work and hang out with KC and Lissa so that Kirsty doesn't have to try and entertain active little people while spending considerable time at the specialists office. Or maybe not considerable time. We never really know. A lot depends on how his ocular pressure is maintaining. If the reading is good, as it was previously, then it might be a short appointment and they will be home in a few hours. If the pressure has risen then it is likely that they will do further dilation and check to see if there has been peripheral vision loss.
I always have his eyes in the back of my mind, I find. I am glad he didn't want to play baseball this year. Even though I think at one level it might have been good for him to push himself a bit, at another, he is right. There is a greater chance of getting nailed by a ball. A friend of mine has a son who played baseball and got hit in the face. There was some fairly serious injury to the orbital area. How that might play out when glaucoma is added to the mix might be trickier. I didn't share that with Rob. I tend to act rather matter of fact about things; the only thing I have said to him is that successful treatment of this illness is 99 per cent following the doctors orders precisely. If they say 2x a day 12 hours apart for the drops, that is what they mean. Since he isn't the greatest about remembering things, I tend to do the remembering for him. I hope for it being routine by the time he is on his own.
But in the dark of the night, before a pressure check, I always worry.
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