There used to be an expression, and probably still is, ‘it’s better than a sharp stick in the eye.’ Really? Has such a thing ever been proven? I wondered, so I tested the theory: I had eye surgery.
Okay, technically, I suppose, a scalpel doesn’t qualify as a sharp stick since it doesn’t grow on a tree, but it is sharp and it was in my eye. I’d say that counts, wouldn’t you?
That’s what they used, anyway, to remove a cataract from my wildly nearsighted eye, a scalpel. In a couple weeks, they’ll do it all again; remove a cataract from my other eye, the one that’s not as nearsighted. In the meantime, I have the vision of a lopsided Cyclops. Which is a significant improvement, I might add.
Last year, about this time, my vision was clocked at -14.00 and -11.25. That’s pretty poor, ladies and gentlemen, well below Hans Moleman range. And approaching legally blind standards. I’m serious.
I haven’t been able to read a street sign or a menu board for years. I couldn’t recognize familiar faces or find stuff I’d dropped. And I got a dowager’s hump from sitting hunched over my computer, trying to see the keys and/or read the screen. What I needed, obviously, was a monitor the size of a drive-in movie screen, but they don’t make one that big. Dammit.
I hope all that’s behind me now — or will be after the second surgery. Do you know what the most amazing part of this whole process has been? It’s not the clarity or the detail I’ve regained, it’s not the fact that I can again identify things on sight; no, it’s the colors. They’re vibrant and rich and vivid, and they’re everywhere. I had no idea the world was such a glorious, brilliant place.
So, what’s the verdict? Is it better than a sharp stick in the eye? Mceiwi odpr9qmr hjn xaig se drewr nuixwx … ooh, sorry, my hair fell over my eye : )
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