The alarm this morning
was set for 05:30. It was tough getting up especially as I'd been
wakeful during the night. I showered, dressed, breakfasted and called
Bert at 06:30. He appeared downstairs in a pair of Crocs, red tartan
pyjama trousers and an ill-matching green check pyjama shirt. To say
he looked odd would be an understatement. The 5 minute drive to the
train station was not without event. As usual Bert left fastening his
seat belt until he was actually driving and, as he did so, he almost
caused an accident by swerving towards the middle of the road just as
another vehicle was overtaking. This is why I was taking the train
instead of having Bert drive me. He is not at his best first thing in
the morning. What would I have done if he had been in an accident? I
would have had to get out and hitch a lift with someone going into
the village. Then the thought of Bert standing by the side of our
road in that crazy outfit while all our early bird neighbours drove
past rubber necking the scene made me laugh and I recovered my
humour. It would have been the talk of the village before the clock
struck ten. Ernie would be one of the first to hear. The lads in the
garage would spread the news widely. Perhaps it would have taught
Bert to fasten his seat belt before driving off.
The train journey went
smoothly (lots of yawning fellow passengers) and I got to the
hospital fifteen minutes before my appointment time. The nurse who
was first to see me tsked when I gave her the letters from Eye
Casualty. “He'll not take you” she said, meaning the surgeon. I
was crest fallen. This was my fear, the worry that had kept me so
wakeful the previous night. She told me to wait until she had the
chance to speak with him. Five minutes later the great man entered.
My nurse consulted with him. Five minutes later she was back at my
side announcing, “He's going to take you! Come on. He says that eye
has been clear since March!” I was delighted and rather pleased
that I had kept attending Eye Casualty so that all the relevant notes
were there.
Now to the actual
cataract removal. A friend told me that it would be twenty minutes of
discomfort but well worth it. Yet I didn't find it uncomfortable,
just very, very odd. The people who carried out the procedure were
lovely and the great man turned out to be pleasant and easy to talk
to. He oversaw the procedure which was carried out by another. The
colours and shapes that I saw as my eye was being worked over were
strange and beautiful. It seemed to take a long time to prise the
cataract away. (I was told afterwards that it was very dense.) I was
listening to the conversation between the surgeon and the nurse as he
requested instruments and I could not help giggling when he asked for
“the chopper”.
When all was done I was
informed that it had gone very well and then I was wheeled off for
coffee and biscuits and a chat with a nurse on aftercare. Bert and
one of our friends picked me up and we went back to his house for
lunch.
Home again, home again
jiggety-jig to find most of the family already there.. Martha and
Evie were very taken with my eye-dressing. Martha said I looked like
a pirate. I was spoiled by everyone and now, as soon as I've posted
this I'm off for a lie-down. The eye dressing doesn't come off until
tomorrow and I'm excited to see what I can see.
Nelly the Pirate
