After the league weekend at work, where everything ran smoothly and our home teams did well, I took my sweetheart to his eye-operation yesterday. He had to have one lens removed and replaced after suffering a cataract a few weeks ago, thus loosing 70% of vision on one eye.
He seemed all calm, whereas I was getting edgy. First, the medication dripped into his eye, to open the lens, didn’t work so well. But this was to be expected. As he is someone to process any substance much quicker and needing more of it to show any effect. Which is a good thing, whenever police stops him when driving home after a few beers. But not so good, when taking medication. After some repetition, he did get the David Bowie stare, with one lens wide open, the other regular sized.
Later, he told me, the doc had to wait again, as the medication numbing his eye to prevent unwanted eye movement also only kicked in after the dose was increased. But then everything went well. Or so I hope. As this morning we have to return to the hospital, to have the pirate patch over his eye removed. Only then the doctor will be able to tell, whether the operation went well and the new lens works allright.
After my sweetheart was done yesterday, he seemed ok, but his hands were all sweaty. This was the only sign, that gave away his apprehension. The patch over his eye looked almost cool, and definately would have, if it were black. He told me, the experience was that of a 70s disco light show with quite psychedelic colour impressions not really matching the whizzing noise of the ultrasound destroying his lens. Next time, when the other eye will be done, he wants some Pink Floyd music played, to match the mood.
He spent the afternoon as he was told to: resting and calm. And of course, being the patient, needing lots of pampering.