Beauty lies in the eye
The first time the surgeon's office called me, I was in the middle of the love and unity that was VIFF 2009. Working, seeing movies, hanging out at Blenz--you know, living for once in my gotdamned life. And the date for my possible surgery? The very last day of the festival. Um, no. Maybe? Yes? I didn't know. I mean, here I was enjoying life for the first time in what seemed like ever, and I was supposed to chuck it all for surgery? But it was for my eye, the one that bugged me whenever I looked in the mirror or saw myself in a photo. I hemmed and hawed and hesitiated, so when I finally called them back, the slot was filled. I didn't mind that much, though. After all, this meant that I was moving my way up the list, right? My time would come soon.
The second time the surgeon's office called me, I was in the middle of my mundane housedaughter existence. Sure, there was the possibility of going to Whistler for their Film Festival, but that was a mere possibility, something to think about and toy with in my mind. So I was a little less hesitant and said yes, I'd do it. A day or two later and I was in the surgeon's office, asking questions and trying not to freak out about the fact that this guy was going to operate on my eye. After talking to him, I calmed down a little and reasoned that this should be cake, especially for someone who's had a handful of surgeries.
But still, it's my eye!
As I write this, it's the night before I go to see the anesthesiologist, and two nights before the day of my surgery. Two nights before they knock me out and toy with my eye muscles in order to get my eyes aligned. Two nights before I come to with temporarily red, but hopefully permanently straight eyes. I'm nervous, excited, scared, and eager.
This is as close to ready as I'll get.
The second time the surgeon's office called me, I was in the middle of my mundane housedaughter existence. Sure, there was the possibility of going to Whistler for their Film Festival, but that was a mere possibility, something to think about and toy with in my mind. So I was a little less hesitant and said yes, I'd do it. A day or two later and I was in the surgeon's office, asking questions and trying not to freak out about the fact that this guy was going to operate on my eye. After talking to him, I calmed down a little and reasoned that this should be cake, especially for someone who's had a handful of surgeries.
But still, it's my eye!
As I write this, it's the night before I go to see the anesthesiologist, and two nights before the day of my surgery. Two nights before they knock me out and toy with my eye muscles in order to get my eyes aligned. Two nights before I come to with temporarily red, but hopefully permanently straight eyes. I'm nervous, excited, scared, and eager.
This is as close to ready as I'll get.