I was reading the titles on the drawers opposite me in the hallway, while waiting for my 2nd cataract: “Beaver handle”, “bulldogs” and a variety of hooks, slicers and punches. Nice.
Fortunately it was only afterwards, sitting on the other side of the hall and at the other end, for my 5-minute convalescence, that I noticed a bin labelled “ruptured globes”. Is that where the just excised bit of me will end up?
After the 1st op., I thought I knew what to expect. Sigh. Perhaps because the first one was at the crack of dawn, somewhat before dawn to be exact, and the 2nd was at the more civilized hour of nearly noon, but the whole getting-there thing was different. Or perhaps it’s because the province is imposing new restrictions. (I’m lucky to get this done before a serious clamp-down on everything.) Anyway, 1st time I strolled in the ER entrance and on up to the eye surgery. This time the actual entrance was being used (ER now exit) and we lined up at 6-ft intervals to get in and then directed to what once upon a time had been the info desk, ‘manned’ by little old volunteer ladies, where now temp gun was applied, we were told to discard the masks we came in with and were handed a new one by way of forceps – alright, kitchen tongs. Then lined up on distanced chairs in front of the gift shop to await our individual summons.
Upstairs was pretty much the same, only fewer and spacier patients. One tiny old woman was delayed as staff tried to get an acceptable blood pressure reading. Mine is up & down FTTT, but I managed to produce a good number (whew).
Felt the ativan this time – didn’t last time (maybe too anxious). In due time, after several dozen eye drops (and several times giving my name, birth date and eye-in-question, plus assurances that I had no *symptoms*) I got ushered to the surgery. No sign of surgeon. Got the impression that the Chinese guy in the room did the deed. Asked about that at the follow-up office visit this morning, and surgeon assured me he’d done it and the Chinese guy was the nurse. Whatever – it got done, with efficiency.
My driver, daughter Jennifer, had gone off to Costco and wasn’t at hand when I got wheeled downstairs. So I waited among the well-spaced silent masked people. After a while I went to the nearby coffee counter, where you order from a few feet away and the card-reader is on a post away from the counter, and got a mocha and, feeling sorry for myself, a gooey bar with carbs thru the roof. Returned to seat, where I lifted mask for a sip and a bite, quickly putting it back down, chewing behind cloth. Weird.
Then I dozed. Felt like an old person when ER staffer woke me to tell me my daughter was there.
My kid, who is nearly retirement age! I AM old.
Home and slept all day, except for getting up at intervals to tend to bodily functions, like eating and drinking. I often have trouble sleeping so I figured to then be up all night. Nope. Slept right thru, to the cats’ delight. Had difficulty in the morning getting up and out to make the hour-down-the-highway to the doc’s office. At least this time the follow-up appointment was such that I left in the daytime, or what passes for daytime in rain-forest winter. Had a nap when I got back! Making an effort to stay awake and do (light) stuff.
But I sure can see! I once again have 2020 vision! Which seems a bit unseemly in a body coming apart at the seams & otherwise seems 2020 only as in terms of this annus horribilis.
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