On Monday I had my first cataract surgery. (I have two eyes, so there’s another surgery coming up.) Apparently no one thought to tell me how unbalanced I would be after one eye got fixed and the other is still very blind. I spent the first evening nearly in tears because my “bad” eye was still bad and the “good” eye, the one that got fixed, was blurry from the surgery and from the protective shield I had to wear for the first 24 hours. I couldn’t see a bloody thing clearly. Or a non-bloody thing, either. Being unable to read, crochet, do diamonds or even play a computer game, I went to bed, quite grumpy, early.
Tuesday morning I woke up, still grumpy, came down to start the plethora of eyedrops that are necessary – okay, that may be an exaggeration, it’s three separate medicines, 4 times a day for each – which necessitated removing the shield.
And Holy Mary, Mother of God!!!!!!!!!!! We live in an amazingly beautiful world!!!!!
I have worn glasses since I was 7 years old, when my mother finally believed that I didn’t really want glasses because my sisters all wore them, but that I actually could not see the blackboard in school, nor could I see the eye chart even to read the biggest letters. My vision has gotten progressively worse over time and I could not imagine ever seeing the world without thick lenses in front of my eyes. For a period of time I wore contact lenses, until I needed reading glasses as well and decided it was not worth it to have both.
A year or so ago, the doctor said that Bear needed cataract surgery. My eyes weren’t ready for that yet. He had the surgery, after the first one he said that he “could see the leaves on the trees.” I thought, “well, that’s nice, I can see green blobs.” He was thrilled with the results, couldn’t wait to the second eye to be done, and reassured me that the whole process was a piece of cake.
I was meant to have the surgery earlier this year, but when Bear got sick, everything got put on hold. He told me to get it done, but I was taking him to doctor appointments and chemo and somewhere seemingly every day, and it just wasn’t a priority.
Grieving is another strange thing. It feels like the world keeps moving while you’re stopped, unable to go forward. But you can’t go back, and trying to live on memories is not a good plan. I’ve learned that things have to continue moving forward, and that doesn’t mean “getting over it,” that’s something I will never do, it means that I can’t live my life waiting.
So I scheduled the surgery. And he was right, it’s freakin amazing. I, too, can see the leaves on the trees. Every single leaf. In all its glory. And all the beautiful colors! Driving is slightly interesting because I’m still unbalanced, but my eyes seem to be adjusting to that a bit, and I have a way cool pink eye patch with crowns on it that I made, so I can cover up the bad eye and merrily drive myself around. (I did not drive with the protective shield. I got rides and I am extremely grateful and blessed to have wonderful friends who act as my personal taxis)
The “bad” eye gets done in 10 days. I am more than ready! And Bear was also correct that the surgery is “a piece of cake.” It was over in 15 minutes, I didn’t feel a thing. And maybe I’ll stop being unbalanced! (well, that’s doubtful)