The bright light above
The bed was too short and narrow as I was rolled into the cold room. It looked oddly the same as other rooms that I have previously visited a half dozen times in my life. The people in the room seemed efficiently busy as I listened to their chatter. They asked my name and my birthdate for what seemed like a half dozen times.
I was aware yet detached. Despite the chaos around me, I was fully relaxed. Someone tucked the warm blanket around my arms that somehow made me feel more secure on the bed.
They asked my name one last time. I responded you can call me “Daniel”, “Dan”, “Dan Jr.” or “Little Dan”. Just do not call me “Danny”. With due respect to all my friends called Danny, it is a name that always seemed to get under my skin when someone called me that.
Finally, three bright lights descended from above visible only from my left eye. I was told to look at the light which triggered some sort of reflexive response forcing me to close my eyes. That is when they put some sort of device that forced my eye to remain open. “This will not hurt” they said. Somehow, it turned out they were correct.
I had the first of two cataract surgeries this week. I have long had a slow growing cataract in each eye which never really affected my vision. A year ago, the doctor told me I had a different, more aggressive type of cataract in my eye that would eventually have to be dealt with. Several weeks ago, that same type of cataract was discovered in my other eye.
They caused a shadow around items that were unnoticeable to me but were causing change in my vision. I first noticed it when playing the piano. I could not describe it at first, but the doctor explained that the shadow around the black notes on the music caused them to be less sharp and distinct. Exactly.
The surgery took less than 20 minutes. The cataracts in my left eye were removed, and a new lens was attached. Some damage to my cornea from Lasik surgery 25 years ago was repaired. My follow-up appointment was scheduled for just five hours later when my bandage was removed.
It took two days for my dilated eye to return to normal, but I was aware of new crispness in my vision. Other than a steady regime of various eyedrops, there were no post-operative exercises or therapy. It was drastically different from my hip replacement just 10 weeks ago.
Modern medicine has made cataract surgery as routine as having your teeth cleaned. It is quick, virtually painless, with almost instant positive changes in your vision.
The major drawback was sensitivity to light the first few days. I attended a concert at the Gogue Performing Arts Center the night of my surgery. We sat in the second row, and the sophisticated and dynamic lighting gave me fits. I found myself covering my eye for much of the performance.
The next evening, I attended the Auburn versus Kentucky football game, wearing dark glasses during the night game. It was the most painful part of the week, though that was strictly due to the poor performance of my team.
In a couple of weeks, I hope to once again undergo the same procedure on my right eye. This time I will know exactly what to expect. I look forward to the medicine that will relax me, the warm blankets that will surround me, and most of all the bright lights that will descend from above.
By Thanksgiving, it will all be over. I will have much to give thanks for this year, but at or near the top of the list will be the ability to see the world with a clearer vision in vivid color. Medical technology and skilled hands make this possible, yet routine. God is good.
o0o
Dan Ponder can be reached at [email protected]