A lot of time has elapsed since I last posted a blog, the reason being my second and, thankfully, last eye has had the vitreous jelly sucked out and replaced with salty water, plus the cataract has been replaced with a nice clear lens. This operation did not go as well as the first. For starters, the wounds each side of my eyeball were angry-red and clear to see. Of course that could possibly have been because my already-operated-upon eye could now see the detail. Whereas when that first one was done ... sigh, it's a long explanation but I expect you can work out what I mean.
My lovely daughter accompanied me to London for my 2 week post-op examination. The doctor said a stitch was sticking out causing my discomfort and that he would cut it back with scissors. I didn't faint although I rather wish I could have, but I did twitter on about being a nervous patient. As if he couldn't tell! Anyway, he dropped a bit of anaesthetic in, wielded his scissors and did the deed.
After tottering back home, the doc rang up and instructed me to stop using the antibiotic and anti-inflammatory drops immediately as the latter had caused the pressure in my eye to increase. The result of following his instruction was a burning sensation, sensitivity to light and, at times, pain that, despite taking pain-killers, was at groaning level.
So, the following week, after running the Portrait Group and painting a blurry portrait, I traipsed back up to London again, this time with Mr A, arriving at 2.30pm and waiting and waiting and waiting in various eye departments until, finally discovering that, yes you guessed it, I had inflammation in that eye. A new type of anti-inflammatory eye drop was prescribed, and we dragged ourselves, nay almost crawled, to the pharmacy situated at the other end of the vast hospital but, again thankfully (see, I do count my blessings) on the ground floor. There we waited whilst drinking tomato soup until eventually two bottles of drops were produced.
We arrived home at ten to nine, quite exhausted but, despite what I've written which may lead you to believe differently, grateful to the NHS for sorting me out, plus 50 others who had turned up at the emergency eye department without an appointment that day. Where else in the world would you get that kind of treatment? I know, I know, the doc should have given me different anti-inflammatories in the first place, but he's a very nice man and works very hard.
I now wait for about another 4 weeks for the eye to settle down so that I can see properly. Despite diligently using moisturiser each day, I am expecting a myriad of new facial lines to appear with the new high definition vision. Every silver cloud does have a dark lining. Deep sigh.
