Since my last update, Brad has been getting eye lubrication hourly, in the hopes that that would help the epithelial (outermost) layer of his cornea heal more quickly. While he has recovered a little more peripheral vision and his central vision seems very slightly less clouded, the progress (as with everything else) remained very slow, so the ophthalmologists decided to go forward with the next procedure they had planned: the tarsorrhaphy, which was done yesterday in his room.

I’ll start out by saying that the procedure, which Brad’s eyes are being held temporarily closed to facilitate healing, went very smoothly and Brad feels just fine today and is in no pain. I don’t plan to get too graphic in this post. But that said, before I continue, let me give a warning to the very squeamish: even though Brad’s procedure was very smooth sailing, you may want to stop reading right now. Yes, you; if you used to do a full-body shudder as a kid whenever anyone said that gruesome rhyme about truth telling (you know the one: “cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye”), you should definitely not google “tarsorrhaphy” and may not want to read this post. Just know that Brad’s eyes are getting a complete rest to speed up healing and everything is fine, and we’ll keep you posted on how things are going with his vision. I’ll also say he’s starting to eat a bit more (latest: beef stew) and they are doing a calorie count on him and reducing his IV nutrition, though he still has a long way to go on volume of food before he can leave the TPN behind. And, as you know, he’s starting to feel better and get out of the hospital room more, so progress on his overall condition continues, slowly.

For those who want a few more eye details, they lie ahead.

The idea behind a tarsorrhaphy is to speed healing by ensuring that the regrowing, healthy epithelial cells aren’t continually irritated by blinking and the friction of the eyelid on the eye. In Brad’s case, the fact that his lower lids were turning inward (along with the lashes) made this function of the tarsorrhaphy especially important. Although he was keeping his eyes closed most of the time, he still involuntarily blinked. Thus the doctors decided to do a “temporary drawstring tarsorrhaphy,” which prevents him from opening and closing his eyes but allows the doctors and nurses to check his progress and provide eyedrops by opening his eyelids gently. The lids are sutured together, with small transparent plastic strips lying over the top of his eyelid (right along the line where eyeliner would be applied if he were an eyeliner kind of guy). The doctors threaded the ends of the sutures, which are extremely fine, through the plastic pieces, and they are looped and tied for use as the “drawstring” of the name.

Brad was understandably anxious about the procedure but the worst parts turned out to be the anticipation and the numbing. He obviously got a big dose of local anesthesia to numb the eye area completely. After that, the suturing went relatively quickly. By luck, the ophthalmologists turned up to do the procedure (which was all done in his room, with him lying on the bed) while I was there, so I was able to stay and hold his hand during the procedure. He did great throughout and today said that the sutures are not bothering him. Thanks to the clear plastic strips, from across the room his eyes don’t look that different from usual closed eyes, and even up close his eyes don’t look too bad or swollen. (Though, he has two pieces of tape on his forehead holding the suture ends up and out of the way. Again, I had no idea tape figured so prominently in the ocular-medicine world.)

The eye doctors don’t have a timeframe or projection for how long they will keep the eyes closed; that depends on his progress. They do say that when the vision is improved, removal of the tarsorrhaphy will be simple and painless. So, as with so much of the rest of Brad’s recovery, now we wait.