Insight

The problems with my eyes had become alarming. Two and a half years ago I was told I had a posterior vitreous detachment in my left eye that had left me with an eye full of floating debris. Over the past 2 weeks, I had developed a similar problem in my right eye, its onset heralded by flashes of light when I turned my head. I found it almost impossible to focus a microscope on joint-fluid samples, a major inconvenience for a rheumatologist. After a MEDLINE search taught me that retinal damage was possible, I decided to consult a specialist at a large eye hospital in the city. My husband agreed to accompany me.

Outside, the massive, modern hospital was impressive. Inside, it was a different story. The entrance was a short, bare hallway ending at a reception desk. A remarkably unreceptive receptionist answered my request for “Dr. Dareeno” with bored, mechanical responses.

“Second floor. Elevators on the right. Retina services.” By this time, my predictable anxiety was affecting my bladder capacity, and I was glad to see, on exiting the elevator, a sign for restrooms.

The ladies' room was depressingly filthy, especially considering that …