One-Eyed Jack

I had my cataract surgery yesterday at 11:00 and it all went pretty well. They knocked me out utterly for 2 or 3 minutes so they could deaden the eye area (where feeling didn't return for many hours); that was very slick. They've obviously had practice. I was conscious during the procedure, but not aware of anything being done to the eye. I was "doped", but awake and aware and able to hear the medical team's conversation. It wasn't so bad, though I'd rather have been given more dope and slept through the whole thing. I left there with an eye-patch over my left eye by 1:30 and stayed like that until this morning when I returned to the doctor's office at about 8:30 and had it removed. I came home and worked some at the computer with my glasses askew over my good eye and my eye-patch, looking like a one-eyed nerdy impersonation of Patrick Stewart when he said sort of stiffly, "I am Locutus of The Borg!" (Ha! You probably thought I didn't watch TV!)

It appears to me that the medical people raved about how well it went in terms of my eye not being too swollen, discolored, or otherwise marred. Yeah, that sounds good. But there's a scratch on my new lens which has to finish healing before I might be able to see how well I can see. I was sort of interested in finding out about that, but no dice. So they put some kind of contact lens "bandage" on my eye and I have other appointments to go back in and consult the eye doctor. Whoopee.

The only thing that's really clear is that I sure can see (and walk!) better now that I could when I was wearing the claustrophobia-inducing eye-patch! Whether I can see better than I could the day before yesterday has yet to be established.

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