Contemplating Cataracts – Deuxième Partie

Four weeks, three surgeries: one knee, two eyes. If I had to, I’d say the ayes definitely have it!

Two weeks ago today (after my first cataract surgery) I woke up to a world that was brighter, more colourful and much clearer. The thick, grey, layers of Vaseline, that had accumulated on my eyes (over the previous 5-6 months) had been removed… well, from the one eye, at least! My world, on that Wednesday, was a wonderment of shapes, colours, detail and discovery.

The daily game I played, of closing the left eye, and then the right, and then the left eye, and then the right has been a never ending source of amusement and fascination, during the past two weeks. The difference between what the two eyes captured/ perceived was literally (and I use that term figuratively) like, night and day!

Although ecstatic to have the vision back in my right eye; the left eye soon became a source of great misery for me. Not willing to surrender; it constantly fought to be in control; making my depth perception and overall long distance vision, difficult at best. The right eye battled valiantly, but at the end of the day… it was always left feeling fatigued and strained.

Finally (and thank goodness) the recommended wait time of two weeks passed; and it was time to have the left eye liberated!

“How did that go?” you ask.

Awesome! Just f**king awesome. Excellent, outstanding, exceptional, praiseworthy, supercalafradulisticexpialadocious!

This morning, after I removed the mandatory plastic eye shield and washed the “goop” from the corners of my eye; there it was, in all it’s glory… a brand new world.

An abundance of colour, textures you could almost feel, endless shapes, hard edges, soft curves, shadows, detail… Did I mention the colours?

Seriously, it brought tears to my eyes to be able to see the veins, on the leaves, of my bright green house plants; and the soft, graceful curves of the shells in my antique typesetting box. The intricacy found in the middle of a sunflower, captured my attention for more than just a few minutes. “Look, there’s moss, growing on the barrel tiled roof, across the way!” “Is that a red alarm box, on the chimney of the house next door?” “Wow, a yellow soccer ball, stuck high, in the branches of that tree, which is starting to bud!

Who could ask for more?

To see, is to live. …at least for today it is!

I’m sure (unfortunately) this euphoria will wear off, leaving me bored and unimpressed with the whole miracle of vision; but for now, on this day, I am in awe and I am most grateful to the Universe and the Powers that be.

I am thankful for the patience, talent and steady, skilful hands of Mr Edward Hughes; his passion has given me the amazing gift of sight, again.

And what about that sleazy, monster that crept in each night, and brought about all this anguish and distress, in the first place?

“Hey!

Hey, you!

Yeah, you, you pathetic, coward; with your bulgy eyes and venomous smile…

You may have won a few of the battles, but we just won the war!”

Your treacherous plans to steal my eye sight have been thwarted!

Now go back to the depths of hell, where you belong!