07 September 2013
706
R. Linda:
Since school has started and Tonya has gone back to work, the Dragon-in-law has graciously offered to take care of the newbie. Add to this, she had cataract surgery scheduled for last Monday with a doctor up here. Having been through it once (and it was an easy process), she said it would not interfere with her caring for the youngest.
So Tuesday rolled around (and I being the one that had the day off), I was the designated driver to the surgical centre and home. I did not want to spend me day with the Dragon, but had little choice. With the wee one in tow at the ungodly hour of 7:40 a.m., we get to the centre, and she (being coffee-less), couldn't answer the questions asked of her. I had to sit next to her like an interpreter and help her. When asked to sign on the dotted line, she protested that the reason she was there was because she couldn't see to sign on any dotted line. Oi! The receptionist put big red Xs on the sheets and she managed her scribble. I tell ya!
The surgery commences, and when done, I am asked to go into the "recovery" room and get ready to take herself home. There she was, one eye covered, drinking ginger ale and munching on fig newtons. Once she finished her "feast," which is what she called it, I was told to bring the car to the door, and they would bring her out. This I did, and I had to laugh because two nurses had her by the arms like Amanda Knox's jailers and were leading the half-sighted Dragon to me motor. Yes, the thought went through me mind, I'd like to drive her to an Italian prison and drop her Dragon arse off, but well . . .
Once we were off, she told me the doctor was making sounds like things were going wrong. He even said, "That's too long," she thought it was the suture, but later decided it was the lens he implanted. Oi!
The next day, Lois drove her over for the removal of the eye patch. When I got home from work Wednesday, I heard her on the phone with one of her sons saying this:
"I had eye surgery, and I can't read a blasted thing! So much for correcting THAT problem. I need a magnifying glass, and I wish I was kidding, but I do. I can see myself out shopping and using a MAGNIFYING GLASS to check out prices. Do you think I'll be noticed? Or worse, looking over the meat poundage in a supermarket meat aisle. Something tells me I will be arrested for terrorising the meat section."
I stood there in total awe, listening.
"I also have a huge red blood spot and a white bubble on the surface of the eye. I don't know what's going on. I had a dream this morning that after the surgery, I had one normal eye and one huge dilated eye. Little did I know I really did! So it's back to the eye doctor Friday to find out what the hell he did. The other eye surgery went exceptionally well, none of this stuff, and it's been two years, no problem. I get the other eye done, thinking easy peasy and no, not this time.
(She listens for a moment, then continues):
"Oh, that! Jeanie's pumpkin carving party, I don't know, I can carve and hold a magnifying glass at the same time. Heck, I probably couldn't find the pumpkin so . . . so much for your party. Sorry dear, tell Jeanie for me, will you please? Something tells me I'll be spending a lot of time at the doctor's office . . . with my magnifying glass."
I had to hear about this the entire night. She was at the mirror, constantly giving updates on the fact that BOTH eyes were now bloodshot. I told her to rest them; she was causing eyestrain, and that was all that was, and I was told I wasn't a doctor, so what did I know? Right.
Friday, Lois once again took her to her appointment, and Lois be near sainthood for making these trips in me book, let me tell you that much. So the HUGE blood spot had shrunk, and the doctor told her that was the incision where he took out the cataract, and the pink bubble, yes, it had turned pink now, was the incision where he had put the lens in. That both would disappear as the eye heals.
The doctor was pleased with the way the eyes looked. But she pointed out to him that she could see distance better now than ever before but could not read. So what was up with that? Well, what was up is the eye is still dilated, and as it goes back to normal, she should be able to read. But if she's still having trouble, she can get those over-the-counter low-magnified reading glasses.
"Low magnified?" she said, "I need a heavy-duty prescription because I can't see an arm's length in front of me!"
"Give it time, please. The healing is perfect." Said doctor.
Tonight, when I walked in, I heard this being said over speakerphone to her other daughter in Jersey:
"Yeah, I can see Manhattan from the second-floor window."
"What, how?" Asks her daughter.
I had to leave because I thought Tonya's sister had dyed her hair blond; I know, I know, I'll get in trouble again for saying that, but really? But then it went a little further, and I just had to eavesdrop.
"I can't read, but I can see far, far away," Dragon said.
"Is your eye still dilated?" The daughter asked.
"Oh yeah, it is."
"When will it be normal?"
"Never! I have x-ray vision now and superpowers of long-distance vision."
"Really, Mom?"
"Well, if my sense of smell was better, I would be a Marvel comic book heroine."
"We'll have to get you a special suit!" The daughter says brightly, to which I had to do everything I could to keep from bursting out laughing that she would be so . . . so . . . BLOND!
That's been my week, and it isn't getting any better. She's staying until this eye thing is resolved . . . or not. I think she's jumped the gun and needs to let that eye heal, and the dilation goes away before she sees any actual results. Already, she can see a hundred times better; even if she can't read fine print, she can at least see signs and get around.
Been fun . . . NOT!
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Since school has started and Tonya has gone back to work, the Dragon-in-law has graciously offered to take care of the newbie. Add to this, she had cataract surgery scheduled for last Monday with a doctor up here. Having been through it once (and it was an easy process), she said it would not interfere with her caring for the youngest.
So Tuesday rolled around (and I being the one that had the day off), I was the designated driver to the surgical centre and home. I did not want to spend me day with the Dragon, but had little choice. With the wee one in tow at the ungodly hour of 7:40 a.m., we get to the centre, and she (being coffee-less), couldn't answer the questions asked of her. I had to sit next to her like an interpreter and help her. When asked to sign on the dotted line, she protested that the reason she was there was because she couldn't see to sign on any dotted line. Oi! The receptionist put big red Xs on the sheets and she managed her scribble. I tell ya!
The surgery commences, and when done, I am asked to go into the "recovery" room and get ready to take herself home. There she was, one eye covered, drinking ginger ale and munching on fig newtons. Once she finished her "feast," which is what she called it, I was told to bring the car to the door, and they would bring her out. This I did, and I had to laugh because two nurses had her by the arms like Amanda Knox's jailers and were leading the half-sighted Dragon to me motor. Yes, the thought went through me mind, I'd like to drive her to an Italian prison and drop her Dragon arse off, but well . . .
Once we were off, she told me the doctor was making sounds like things were going wrong. He even said, "That's too long," she thought it was the suture, but later decided it was the lens he implanted. Oi!
The next day, Lois drove her over for the removal of the eye patch. When I got home from work Wednesday, I heard her on the phone with one of her sons saying this:
"I had eye surgery, and I can't read a blasted thing! So much for correcting THAT problem. I need a magnifying glass, and I wish I was kidding, but I do. I can see myself out shopping and using a MAGNIFYING GLASS to check out prices. Do you think I'll be noticed? Or worse, looking over the meat poundage in a supermarket meat aisle. Something tells me I will be arrested for terrorising the meat section."
I stood there in total awe, listening.
"I also have a huge red blood spot and a white bubble on the surface of the eye. I don't know what's going on. I had a dream this morning that after the surgery, I had one normal eye and one huge dilated eye. Little did I know I really did! So it's back to the eye doctor Friday to find out what the hell he did. The other eye surgery went exceptionally well, none of this stuff, and it's been two years, no problem. I get the other eye done, thinking easy peasy and no, not this time.
(She listens for a moment, then continues):
"Oh, that! Jeanie's pumpkin carving party, I don't know, I can carve and hold a magnifying glass at the same time. Heck, I probably couldn't find the pumpkin so . . . so much for your party. Sorry dear, tell Jeanie for me, will you please? Something tells me I'll be spending a lot of time at the doctor's office . . . with my magnifying glass."
I had to hear about this the entire night. She was at the mirror, constantly giving updates on the fact that BOTH eyes were now bloodshot. I told her to rest them; she was causing eyestrain, and that was all that was, and I was told I wasn't a doctor, so what did I know? Right.
Friday, Lois once again took her to her appointment, and Lois be near sainthood for making these trips in me book, let me tell you that much. So the HUGE blood spot had shrunk, and the doctor told her that was the incision where he took out the cataract, and the pink bubble, yes, it had turned pink now, was the incision where he had put the lens in. That both would disappear as the eye heals.
The doctor was pleased with the way the eyes looked. But she pointed out to him that she could see distance better now than ever before but could not read. So what was up with that? Well, what was up is the eye is still dilated, and as it goes back to normal, she should be able to read. But if she's still having trouble, she can get those over-the-counter low-magnified reading glasses.
"Low magnified?" she said, "I need a heavy-duty prescription because I can't see an arm's length in front of me!"
"Give it time, please. The healing is perfect." Said doctor.
Tonight, when I walked in, I heard this being said over speakerphone to her other daughter in Jersey:
"Yeah, I can see Manhattan from the second-floor window."
"What, how?" Asks her daughter.
I had to leave because I thought Tonya's sister had dyed her hair blond; I know, I know, I'll get in trouble again for saying that, but really? But then it went a little further, and I just had to eavesdrop.
"I can't read, but I can see far, far away," Dragon said.
"Is your eye still dilated?" The daughter asked.
"Oh yeah, it is."
"When will it be normal?"
"Never! I have x-ray vision now and superpowers of long-distance vision."
"Really, Mom?"
"Well, if my sense of smell was better, I would be a Marvel comic book heroine."
"We'll have to get you a special suit!" The daughter says brightly, to which I had to do everything I could to keep from bursting out laughing that she would be so . . . so . . . BLOND!
That's been my week, and it isn't getting any better. She's staying until this eye thing is resolved . . . or not. I think she's jumped the gun and needs to let that eye heal, and the dilation goes away before she sees any actual results. Already, she can see a hundred times better; even if she can't read fine print, she can at least see signs and get around.
Been fun . . . NOT!
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved