I got an eye job. I didn’t know I needed one. I wasn’t even sure what that was. I view all surgery as questionable and facial surgery as mostly vanity unless you were born like Sylvester Stallone with a tilting head and permanent lip snarl — the result of “assisted birth” by a doctor too aggressive with forceps.
None of that happened to me. I merely reached mid-70s and my eye lids gave up trying to stay all the way up. I thought I was just tired. Or maybe sick of the world anyway so why would I want to see the whole disgusting scene?
But there I was, in the Office of Torture —the annual eye exam. No place that I can think of attacks my self-confidence quite as acutely. The assistant begins “which is clearer” and I immediately begin melting into the chair…”Please, please, please don’t call on me today. I didn’t prepare! I meant to read the assignment but the dog threw up and I needed wine.”
Not only is A not one bit clearer than B but I can’t tell the difference! And then I totally give up and admit that the entire wall is a blur. Just let me out of here and I promise I’ll never drive again!
But Madame Hilda says “well, just guess.” That’s when I tell her that I’m sorry but I can’t read the Greek alphabet. Hilda is not amused. She leaves in a huff “I’ll call the doctor in now.”
Uh-oh! Now I’ve done it. I have eye cancer!!!
A “Field Vision Test” was next. It was more fun than the “A or B” routine. You sit in a chair and click when you see a little light appearing anywhere on the screen. The lights dart around like lighting bugs and before too long I was just clicking the damned remote figuring what the hell — guess work got me through school — it could work again.
I failed.
So here I am two weeks after surgery. I visited the eye surgeon last week. He said “I’m surprised you can see anything with those cataracts.” This came as complete news to me but it explains a lot…like why I see three moons…why my neighborhood is full of sparkles…why night time driving is a lot like “Close Encounters of a Third Kind.” My entire universe has become one giant Star Wars episode. I guess I’ll have the cataracts removed in February or March but in a way, I’ll miss all the sparkles. Who doesn't like sparkles?
