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| Charlottesville, Va., 2006 |
I say all this not to brag, but rather because I'm used to people looking at me, sometimes strangely. Now, though, I'm getting stares for a different reason.
Previous posts on this blog have touched on the physical side effects of Graves Disease. The one that I struggle with the most is my bulging eyes. My eyes "bug out," bringing with it discomfort and sensitivity. Aside from the constant tearing (that's "tear" as in cry, not rip) and need for eye drops—which may seem contradictory—there's a psychological impact, too.
I'm well aware of my eyes making my face look different. People who know me probably don't notice it as much as strangers. Or me. But if you look at my face, something's off. The Thyroid Eye Disease has caused my eyes to look big, seem asymmetrically placed, and appear to be protruding abnormally. Actually that last part is not an appearance but a fact. Regardless, it's enough of an abnormality for strangers to notice something is off when they first meet me. Especially children. It's not uncommon for a child in church to be smiling and looking around one minute, then in awe and fixated on my eyes the next. One time, while waiting to get my hair cut, a child stared at me for about three minutes before saying, "Your face looks weird." If only I had the wit of Art Linkletter or Bill Cosby at that moment.
Of course, there are all kinds of associations linking unusual appearance with diminished capacity or social inaptitude, but that might be where my own self-consciousness kicks in. It's quite possible that people look at me for reasons other than the physical side effects of my Graves Disease. Personally, I doubt that. I try to ward off the unusual glances by squinting my eyes because that makes my eyes not look so big. One-on-one conversations give me a hard time, though. People are usually closer and can see my eyes better than if they were just passing on the street or in a hallway. I've noticed that I tend to look away more when I'm talking with one person. And if I see them looking in my eyes, I have a hard time staying focused on the topic of conversation.
Whether I'm right or wrong, I've accepted this as reality. But I don't like it, and I don't know how to change it. An ophthalmologist at the Mayo Clinic suggested I consider orbital decompression surgery. I've never had surgery before, and what if something goes wrong? I don't want my vision to be damaged over something superficial and cosmetic. I'm (naively?) hoping that things will improve. I'm hoping that with less stress, the right medication, a healthy diet, and appropriate exercise, many of these problems will dissipate despite what the literature says. We'll see...
Previous posts on this blog have touched on the physical side effects of Graves Disease. The one that I struggle with the most is my bulging eyes. My eyes "bug out," bringing with it discomfort and sensitivity. Aside from the constant tearing (that's "tear" as in cry, not rip) and need for eye drops—which may seem contradictory—there's a psychological impact, too.
I'm well aware of my eyes making my face look different. People who know me probably don't notice it as much as strangers. Or me. But if you look at my face, something's off. The Thyroid Eye Disease has caused my eyes to look big, seem asymmetrically placed, and appear to be protruding abnormally. Actually that last part is not an appearance but a fact. Regardless, it's enough of an abnormality for strangers to notice something is off when they first meet me. Especially children. It's not uncommon for a child in church to be smiling and looking around one minute, then in awe and fixated on my eyes the next. One time, while waiting to get my hair cut, a child stared at me for about three minutes before saying, "Your face looks weird." If only I had the wit of Art Linkletter or Bill Cosby at that moment.
Of course, there are all kinds of associations linking unusual appearance with diminished capacity or social inaptitude, but that might be where my own self-consciousness kicks in. It's quite possible that people look at me for reasons other than the physical side effects of my Graves Disease. Personally, I doubt that. I try to ward off the unusual glances by squinting my eyes because that makes my eyes not look so big. One-on-one conversations give me a hard time, though. People are usually closer and can see my eyes better than if they were just passing on the street or in a hallway. I've noticed that I tend to look away more when I'm talking with one person. And if I see them looking in my eyes, I have a hard time staying focused on the topic of conversation.
Whether I'm right or wrong, I've accepted this as reality. But I don't like it, and I don't know how to change it. An ophthalmologist at the Mayo Clinic suggested I consider orbital decompression surgery. I've never had surgery before, and what if something goes wrong? I don't want my vision to be damaged over something superficial and cosmetic. I'm (naively?) hoping that things will improve. I'm hoping that with less stress, the right medication, a healthy diet, and appropriate exercise, many of these problems will dissipate despite what the literature says. We'll see...
Good luck Mark. The TED was by far the most troubling for me working in a very public capacity in broadcasting because the instinct is to avoid being seen but your job requires you make and maintain contacts. I'm hopeful it corrects itself for you! Blessings.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Christy. You're absolutely right...TED in a public profession is troubling. I'm hoping by adjusting my exercise routine (e.g., exercise at least 30 minutes a day) and my diet (e.g., cut out the bad stuff and incorporate more good stuff), the TED will stabilize and improve. I'm sure it's a pipe dream, but it's worth hoping for. Thanks, as always, for the support. I hope all is well with you, too :)
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