A recent photo of the author

THE FACTS.

I was recently diagnosed with a tumor, known as a choroidal melanoma, in the back of my right eye. The tumor likely started off as a benign nevus (a mole that is common in the back of the retina) but then started growing. Last week I underwent treatment at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center (MSK) where radioactive seeds were placed on a small metal plaque and sutured onto the back of my eye for three days. The plaque was then removed in a second surgery and the tumor was also blasted with a laser. Everything went as planned. The tumor was large enough for treatment to be the recommended course, but small enough to be on the very earliest and smallest side that such treatments are used. I will follow up with the doctors in four weeks and also every six months. There was very little pain associated with the treatment. The outside of my right eye is black and blue in the corners of the eyelid and the eye itself is quite red. It looks like I got socked in the eye. I also have some blurry and double vision which should go away within a few weeks. Overall though, a miracle of science considering how good I feel. I have asked the doctors if any superpowers, including but not limited to monocular x-ray vision, might ensue. I haven't gotten a straight answer yet, but I have my suspicions.

HOW WAS THE TUMOR DETECTED?

I had started noticing increased floaters in my vision and then some flashing lights some months ago. I couldn't determine if the source of the symptoms was an eye, neurological or neuro-opthamological, given that the symptoms emanated from the exact center of my vision and the flashing lights appeared in the same spots even when I closed either eye. At first my doctors thought it was an ocular migraine, given my past medical history of migraines. Next, I went to an opthamologist, but they failed to see the tumor in a visual inspection of my eyes using glass lenses. To make a very long story short--after my insistence they eventually found the tumor after taking some photographs of my retinas and doing a computerized "visual field test" and noticing I was developing a blind spot in my right eye. That prompted other tests including an ultrasound of the eye which verified that the area of concern was malignant. (Biopsies are not performed. Ultrasound radio signatures are 98%+ accurate.) The floaters and flashing lights were caused by the tumor pushing up and detaching an area of the retina, which turned out to be a fortunate occurence. Many choroidal melanomas are asymptomatic and thus are not detected until it's late. All in, I am doing very well and looking to return to school just a few short weeks after formal treatment commenced. My fantastic doctors from MSK assure me that given the size and stage of my tumor, along with my relatively young age, my prognosis is extremely good. The probabilities are very, very much on my side. Nonetheless, it has been an intense and scary experience that quickly reminds one of what's important in life.

ADVICE.

It's amazing how many little things in life seem important until something potentially catastrophic slaps you in the face. All of a sudden you push everything off your calendar and spend your time with family and friends. Things that seemed so important and necessary reveal themselves as un*. Take a moment to evaluate your own life through this lens. You'd probably spend more time with your family and friends. Going through this process has radically changed my perceptions of healthcare. In the future, I will be writing about the insights I have gained from this experience. My immediate advice to you is, of course, to get your eyes examined once a year (and get photos of your retinas while you are at it--I wouldn't trust the lenses) and be your own advocate when it comes to your health. Doctors these days are often so jaded by other patients' hypochondriac complaints and internet-inspired patient paranoia that they dismiss real symptoms. If you are experiencing real and tangible symptoms that worry you, don't let up without exploring your options. It just might save your life. It probably saved mine.