If you’ve put in the time…. Photo: The Inertia
Surfer’s eye, or pterygium, is a progressive, non-life threatening growth that is often described as “wing-like.” You get it from years in the sun, sand and ocean. I have a pretty gnarly one that requires surgery. Or it will grow into the pupil and obstruct vision. In the days leading up to the procedure, its origin story has been replaying in my mind. Here’s a few words on the journey with this scaly, winged growth that’s slowly taken over my eye, and why I wear it proudly.
It started off with glazed eyes red as the devil after every surf. I thought the water was just getting saltier. I upgraded my post-surf eye drops to the equivalent of menthol cigarettes. A cool, refreshing burn to alleviate those irritated eyes. It only got worse. Eyes redder and redder, everyone around me thought I was constantly stoned. Then the itching began. It felt like there was always a piece of sand in my eye. Naturally, I rubbed them raw. Then everyone thought it was pink eye. None of the above.
For months I dealt with it. Nothing more than a minor inconvenience (the alternative being to stop surfing or surf with goggles on — major inconveniences). I’d go through a bottle of eye drops a week. It was like having an allergy, only I couldn’t be allergic to surfing. I decided to take a week off and let the irritation clear. That’s when I noticed the strange raised white line of flesh growing across my eyeball. There it was, advancing from the inside corner of my eye towards the center, invading enough to penetrate the iris.
Wind and exposure to the elements wreak havoc on the ol’ eye sockets. Photo: Tino Rischawy//Unsplash
It wasn’t until I ran into a very friendly body boarder that I began to figure it out. I had just exited the water when he stopped me in the sand. The typical in passing chat — “How was it?” and “Oh you just missed the tide shift, but it should still hold.”
Then I noticed his right eye was already red and swollen. It was full-on pink and the growth stretched over the entirety of the inside whites of his eyes, stretched so far into the iris that it appeared to contact the pupil. I felt too awkward to ask, but he could sense it. A mirror moment. “It’s called surfer’s eye,” he said. “A pterygium is the medical term.” Great, I thought, there’s a damn dinosaur growing in my eyes. Again, he read me like a book, “Not the dinosaur mate, but I suppose it’s sort of like a scale growing over your eye because you surf so much. Kind of badass. A badge of honor.”
And it is. Like how in high school someone would ask you if you burned, and the only real proof would be to roll a fatty. Same same, now only if someone asks if I surf, I have the scales to prove it. I’ve reached some undefinable milestone, proof of time in service. Burned retinas. Sick.
But I couldn’t imagine letting it grow over my eye, letting it take some vision. So I’m going under the knife.
That is, unless one of my last surfs gets the job done. A British Medical Journal study from this century reported a curious case of a 61-year old surfer who removed a pterygium by dropping in at Waimea Bay and over extending on his toe side rail, dipping his eye in the moving face with such precision that the pterygium was completely removed. An unconventional approach indeed.
If the only way out is to eat it toe side and open my eye wide… check the cams, I’ll be out there for a few more weeks.
