We Can Rebuild Him…

I KNOW THAT I’VE BEEN WRITING a lot about my cataract surgery lately. Some people tell me that they have found it somewhat interesting. Others have called it all rather “yucky.”

And they are both correct.

Look Into My Eyes

IT HAS BEEN TEN MONTHS SINCE I HAD CATARACT SURGERY ON MY BABY BLUES. That is not a completely accurate sentence. My eyes are not blue. They have been black on occasion, but never blue…and where else but on my eyes would I have cataract surgery? In fact the only accurate part in that sentence is that it was done ten months ago.

Now that we have that squared away I will move on. I just went back for a follow-up exam with the doctor.

Making A Spectacle Of Myself

 

I HAVE MY NEW EYEGLASSES! It has been well over a month since I started this whole cataract adventure. I have been living with nonstop eye drops and a pair of Dollar store spectacles for so long now that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to pick up a book and read. I may need Physical Therapy to get back in the groove.

When I went in for my latest and final visit with Dr. Doogie, my 12 year old ophthalmologist with a five o’clock shadow, he said that everything looked good and that my vision was now at 20/25 – not perfect but some concession had to be made for my age. I was actually able to read the bottom line on the eye chart. When I first went in I could only read the first line below the

BIG E.

Get Me Out Of Jail

MY MIND IS IN JAIL. At least that is how it feels. Right now, with one cataract gone and one still to be dealt with, I have two totally different eyes with totally different focus points and even totally different color perceptions. That all makes reading very difficult.

Taking away my ability to pick up a book or my Kindle and comfortably read is like lashing me to a chair, putting a paper bag over my head, and closing all the drapes. The World has disappeared.

Am I Nervous?

 

I MAY HAVE HAD AN 8:15 AM APPOINTMENT, but that doesn’t mean I was ready to go at 8:15. It was a good thing that Dawn was driving. I was in no mood for having to deal with this whole surgery thing.

We were on time, checked in, and led back into one of those little curtained off areas where I was handed a hospital gown. I did not expect that. The Nurse, Techie, or Head Patient Wrangler told me that they were going to hook me up to a heart monitor and put a port into a vein – just in case.

Whatever. I was resigned to my fate.

Look Into My Eyes

DRIP. DRIP. DRIP. Three drops for three days, but only in my left eye. My right eye is on its own – at least for the next two weeks. At that point it becomes Drip, Drip, Drip in the right eye.

By this time tomorrow I will have a brand spankin’ new lens in my left eye. Then for the next two weeks I will see better in that eye and still see crappy in the other. 

Life Happens On The Road

 

BACK TO TEXAS – FOR THE TIME BEING. We have been home for Thanksgiving, but we will be lining up for flights heading south again for Christmas.

Ho. Ho. Ho.

As anyone over the age of 12 can tell you, family trips are no vacation. That’s just a law of Nature. Not that I don’t enjoy seeing and being with the fine members of the family. It is that “grown-up matters are the primary function of such trips. Life.

I’m Sure About The Letter “E.”

WELL, THIS CERTAINLY WAS A BUSY MORNING. Coffee and conversation at 6:30 AM, and a Doctor’s appointment at 9:00 AM. My dance card was filled.

Most of the conversation segment of my morning was about my impending Doctor’s appointment. How exciting.

The appointment was with an “Ophthalmologist.” That is a word meaning: “Not a guy working at the Mall.” I was going to see him for a very good reason – my vision is starting to suck. Not all of it, just the part from about 2 ft. out to about 15 ft. Closer in and farther away I am seeing as well as a 71 year old Geezer with Astigmatism can be expected to see. I can find my way around town without a dog.