Remembrances of things past
Everything is in motion - the surgery to dissolve the cataracts and replace the lens in my left eye is scheduled for this coming Monday. Apparently it only takes about 15 minute - although now it's referred to as a "procedure" - is that a downgrade? Anyway, I'll be there for about 2-3 hours to let the anesthesia wear off, then supposedly I'll sleep for the rest of the day at home. I'm taking Tuesday off as well. Then about 3 weeks later, repeat on the right eye. And voila - amazing distance vision. It will be such a relief to see things that aren't fuzzy.
My mind knows all will be well, and I'm not really concerned. My gut, however, hasn't completely make the transition to the present and there is a gnawing unease - a feeling of suddenly being old. I remember from my childhood what a horror cataracts were back in the 1940's. My grandfather (my father's father) was diagnosed with cataracts and the only option at the time was blindness. Of course, I was very young and didn't even know exactly they were talking about. Mostly I only remember the upset from the adults and the gradual deterioration in his health, but I've never forgotten that. Just the word "cataracts" caused an involuntary reaction when it was used in reference to me. Of course, I know we've come a long way, still...
It also points up the isolation I live in here in Austin. When I was told someone would have to drive me to and from the "procedure", I felt a knot in my stomach. Since my sister moved to Oregon, I don't really know anyone I would feel comfortable asking. However, when I told my landlady about it, she volunteered before I could even ask. She's had the same thing done, and knew the drill. We used to be good friends many years ago when I was in college here, but now, other than paying rent, I have almost no contact with her (that's a whole 'nother story). So I was surprised and quite relieved.
So, Monday it is - to infinity and beyond!
My mind knows all will be well, and I'm not really concerned. My gut, however, hasn't completely make the transition to the present and there is a gnawing unease - a feeling of suddenly being old. I remember from my childhood what a horror cataracts were back in the 1940's. My grandfather (my father's father) was diagnosed with cataracts and the only option at the time was blindness. Of course, I was very young and didn't even know exactly they were talking about. Mostly I only remember the upset from the adults and the gradual deterioration in his health, but I've never forgotten that. Just the word "cataracts" caused an involuntary reaction when it was used in reference to me. Of course, I know we've come a long way, still...
It also points up the isolation I live in here in Austin. When I was told someone would have to drive me to and from the "procedure", I felt a knot in my stomach. Since my sister moved to Oregon, I don't really know anyone I would feel comfortable asking. However, when I told my landlady about it, she volunteered before I could even ask. She's had the same thing done, and knew the drill. We used to be good friends many years ago when I was in college here, but now, other than paying rent, I have almost no contact with her (that's a whole 'nother story). So I was surprised and quite relieved.
So, Monday it is - to infinity and beyond!