I’m Very Glad I Got a Second Opinion

By Sondra Forsyth

A little over a year ago, in July of 2017, I went for my routine three-month check-up with my ophthalmologist. I‘ve had a mild case of glaucoma for a few years, as well as the beginnings of a cataract in my left eye. Medicated drops seemed to be keeping the glaucoma in check, and I’ve never noticed any vision problems beyond the nearsightedness I’ve had all my life.

At that appointment, though, the eye doc said I should have cataract surgery. She also said the surgery would help with the glaucoma. She gave me the name of a surgeon she recommended, and I left the office shaken. I live alone in NYC. As I hailed a cab, my mind raced with possible solutions to how I would have someone with me during the surgery, and how I would keep working at my editorial job.

The following week, I went to see the surgeon. Needless to say, I was apprehensive. However, I liked this doctor immediately. She has a large staff, and I liked all of the people who checked my eyes before I even got to see the surgeon. Then came the moment of truth. She cleared her throat. I later interpreted that as a way of figuring out how not to implicate my original doctor for making a mistake. At the time, though, I thought she must be gathering her thoughts in order to deliver bad news.

I was wrong about that assumption. When she finally spoke, she said, “I don’t recommend surgery for you. In your case, the risks would outweigh the benefits. Your cataract is very small, and you are not experiencing any perceptible loss of vision. As for the glaucoma, the cataract surgery would not have any effect on that condition at all. There is another surgery that could be performed for the glaucoma, but it’s not very effective. Anyway, your ocular pressure for the glaucoma is well controlled. If it weren’t, I would be putting drops in your eyes right now.”

She paused, and I allowed my flicker of a smile to broaden. She smiled as well. “So, I can go home and enjoy the rest of the summer?” I said, still not quite sure that this wonderful turn of events had taken place. She extended her hand and shook mine. “Yes. You’re fine. Come back in four months.”

Outside in the brilliant summer sunlight, I texted the excellent news to my daughter and to my friends who had been on call to help me after the surgery. The irony of the fact that the original doctor was the one who sent me to the surgeon who gave me my life back didn’t hit me until I got home. During the cab ride through Central Park to the West Side, I simply reveled in my sudden good fortune. The grass and leaves seemed greener, the birdsong sounded sweeter, and my anticipation of the days ahead in the city that I love gave me frissons of pleasure.

That evening, I went to dinner at a neighborhood restaurant where I’m a regular. Many of my friends were there. When I told my happy tale, several people chimed in with similar stories about fortunate second opinions either for themselves or for loved ones.

I silently vowed from then on to ask for a second opinion any time a medical issue crops up. True, the second opinion could confirm the first one. Ah, but as in my case it could result in a much happier outcome.

A year later, my eyes are still just fine, thank you very much. I do use the eyedrops religiously, but that’s easy. I do go to the new doc every four months, but that’s easy as well – especially since she keeps giving me good news.

Here’s to continued good news for me, and to good news for you and yours if you ever get a second opinion!

Sondra Forsyth is a Co-Editor-in-Chief at thirdAGE.com.