I did, and so a nurse looked at me and consulted with the doctor. "It's nothing to worry about." So I waited nearly 2 hours to see the doctor, in queue with everyone else. The doctor took it more seriously. She rang the hospital and told them I was coming and she wrote me a referral and she told me, "NO, don't go via home. Ring your friends from here and see if they can help." For it is a long weekend and bus services are fuzzy and taxi fares exceptionally dear. And I was urgent, but not ambulance material, which was reassuring.
A friend took care of me and waited for me the whole afternoon and her husband fed me dinner tonight.
Anyhow, at the hospital the staff member triaging didn't say "wait ten hours" but "Wait til I've handled this ambulance." Then he took all my details and called up my case history and looked at my letter and said "We'll bring in an ophthalmologist. They may be a little while - it depends where they live." I went to sit with my friend.
Five minutes later, a nurse came. "The doctor wants to see you first," she said. For a doctor to see me ahead of vast queues of people means they actually *had* looked at my case record. Last time my right eye went funky was when my heart also went funky. Also, later it appeared that there are other causes of funky vision than the one I had and that they're rather foul - I'm glad I was cleared of them!
The only bed was the isolation ward, so I got a private room, with very pretty walls and my very own toilet. Also a very comfy bed. I rested on the nice bed and admired the walls and waited. Before I got used to the idea of waiting (first time I went to the hospital, for something that proved more serious than my eye, I had to wait eight hours to be seen) a young doctor came and checked me. He particularly liked making me stick out my tongue. "It's only the eye," he reassured me. "I'll just write up my case notes."
Before he could return, the opthamologist had appeared and had to chase him and my case notes. He did some initial tests and then gave my eyes their first set of drops. I was offered my very fine isolation ward if I wanted to rest, or I could use a chair in the normal corridor waiting area. I chose the chair: someone else needed that ward, I suspected. After the twenty minutes the drops needed to work, the specialist took me and two others with him to the eye clinic, which had been opened specially for us. Actually, more for the guy from Bega who needed an operation. Laser, he said - they have a good hospital in Bega, but not the right equipment for this operation. Three and a half hours they drove 9for roads were closed) for his urgent operation. I shamefully admitted that It had taken me five minutes to get there. I didn't admit to the hours waiting at the doctor's, earlier.
Lots of bright lights and more drops and careful examinations later and I was fine. I have vitreous detachment. It normally happens with older people, but I do have extreme eyes and so it was no big surprise it had happened now. Apparently I will become accustomed to my new, even-more-funky vision (the level of funk depends on the state of the blood swirling - the blood always looks black, but sometimes it looks like streaks and sometimes tendrils and sometimes critters racing out of sight). I go back to hospital for a check-up next week.
And that was my holiday Monday.