Eyeball Part 2

Hayter for October 15, 2023

“In sickness and in health”

When last we left, I was getting ready to have my eyeball operated on. I think I made it clear that I was not concerned about the operation itself. It was the post-operation stint that I dreaded. At this point, I’m not close to being halfway through.

 

Of course, I will not continue with my woe-is-me commentary past today. Next week, no matter how poorly I’m doing, you will not read more than a paragraph about my eyeball. Here it is ten days after the procedure and, though the worst of it is over, I’m still in the state of dread… and I’m not even in Oklahoma. The good thing is – I’ve got Kay!

 

I want you to know that I did not marry that girl because I needed someone who could take care of me. At one time I was actually in charge of a lot of stuff. I was the breadwinner, car fixer, lawnmower starter, grass mower, oil changer, car washer, and leaky faucet fixer.

 

But, over the years, Kay has methodically managed to take care of more things than I ever could. I still have chores, you understand? But, I can not come close to matching what all that woman knows about… practically everything.

 

Other than sports, Kay knows everything. Take my eyeball, for instance. While the eye doctor, Dr. Chen, explained to Kay and me, the important information related to my surgery, I didn’t retain much it. There was something about shooting a liquid or gas into my eye socket, which would not allow me to see very well for a while.

 

The doctor never mentioned for me not to lose my clear, plastic eye protector. That thing was with me for all of two days. Kay found it yesterday stuck to the underside of my laptop tray.  I do remember the doctor saying that I would have to sleep on my stomach for almost a week. I apparently stopped listening to her after that.

 

I missed out on the part about the eye drops. Kay brought home two tiny bottles of eye drops.  The drops were to be administered four times a day for the first week, three for the second week, and two for the third. I did manage to catch onto the pattern of succession.

 

Kay has to insert the drops for me because I can’t keep up with the target. The closer the eye drop bottle gets to my bad eye, the less my good eye is able to direct me. I’m liable to deposit the drop into my nostril.   

 

As for sleeping on my stomach, I didn’t remember much about the details.  I thought it’d be for five days, but Kay said I had to do it for seven days. I was way off! On the eighth night, I was allowed to sleep on my side. Not my back! I don’t know what happens if I roll over on my back. Kay acted as if my eye would pop out. 

 

To make sure I didn’t unconsciously end up on my back, Kay got a soft, fluffy piece of material, wrapped it around my waist, and then placed a teddy bear on my back, using the fluffy strap to keep him in place.

 

I don’t know about you, but when someone does something weird to me, I like to know the “why” of it.  Kay said, “Well, if you roll over on your back while asleep, Elwood will wake you up.”

Beg pardon? Uh, Elwood is a teddy bear that the nurse gave me after the removal of my prostate back in ’06. And, no, I don’t care to talk about any part of that procedure.

 

Anyway, the women of one of the local churches made stuffed bears, rabbits, and, uh… what, elephants? I don’t know. I was given a bear. I don’t know if the church ladies intended an adult to get one, but I thought it a nice gesture. I’m fairly sure, though, that the nurse gave the bear to me because, during my short stay, I behaved as a child. Obviously, she had never had her prostate removed.

 

I can finally tell that my eye is getting somewhat better. I can now figure out what some of the blurred images are. I don’t know for sure what the image is until it gets relatively close to my eye. Keep in mind, that my left eye is doing great. It’s the right eye that’s full of nitric oxide. I thought N.O. was a gas, but my eyeball seemed to be filled with a blurry liquid.  

 

Of the many things I’ve learned about losing sight in one of your eyes, is related to the movie “True Grit”.  It’s the part about John Wayne shooting all of those rats in his cabin. The ability of a one-eyed person to quickly hit an object with a revolver is fiction… as was the movie True Grit. I say that to say this. Having only one good eye, my peripheral vision no longer exists. I’m liable to step on or in anything. I can’t even trust myself to set my coffee mug on the table.

 

Speaking of which, if I were to knock an HEB coke off the TV tray, Kay would say, “No, darling, sit down. I’ll clean that up.” I hate putting her through stuff like that, but it’s a blessing knowing that she'll step in and do whatever.

 

And, while I’d do the same for her, there is no way I’m smart enough to match her abilities. I mean, a teddy bear strapped to my back? That’s true love.

end

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