There Goes My Eyeball Into My Highball

My left eye lens, along with the cataracts, was sucked into a tube and replaced with a brand spankin-new, slightly rounded clear lens. This week was part 2 of my cataract surgery with part 1 being two weeks ago. I see great, but I'm in a heap of trouble. In the pre-op area, after the initial eye-numbing procedure, I was singing, "Cataracts, I done got cataracts. There goes my eyeball into my highball."  That was before surgery. After surgery it got worse.

The anesthesia they gave me was a non-narcotic that makes you forget what happened. When I went to the doctors ofice the next morning for a post-op check up, everyone in the office was laughing. They asked me if I remembered anything. "Sure", I said. "I actually watched the surgical nurse swab out my left eye with betadine solution." "What else do you remember" they smirked? "Ah...nothing else", I said with trepidation.
That's when I was told that I proposed to the doctor, proposed to the anesthesiologist, made fart noises when the nurse bent over, and kept singing 'there goes my eyeball into my highball' to the tune of "Jeapardy", which was a tune my grandparents listened to frequently when I was a young'un.

To make matters worse, an elderly lady in the curtained cubicle next to me was laughing so hard she got chest pains. The surgical team thought she was having an angina attack and sent her home. She had to reschedule her cataract surgery for a later day.

It's no horse pucky when I tell you, it's the first time the surgical staff (both pre-op and post-op) considered kicking someone out of the surgical center. 

One Done, One To Go

My right eye had the cataracts removed along with the God-given lens the cataracts were attached to and a brand new lens was inserted. Wow! It's amazing what doctors can do these days. The world looks brighter, newspaper print looks bigger, and my grandchildren look taller. The surgery was a piece of cake. I've had no eye discomfort whatsoever. HOWEVER...there's always a "however"...the anesthesia did me in.

I'm very sensitive to any type of medication. Two Ibuprofen knock me on my kabootie. The day after surgery I had a post-op exam and asked, "What in the world did you use for anesthesia?" When the Dr.told me they used Fentanol in the IV pic,I realized why I've been loopy, dopey, tired and grumpy for the last four days. Fentanol is a narcotic, and that stuff sends me into orbit, toward some weird planet I don't want to be on.

When they do the left eye in a week and a half, I'm going to opt for a much lesser dose or at least another type of happy juice. I still think the Jack Daniels would be better.  
  

Here's Looking At You

Guess what? I have to have cataract surgery. It's no big deal. In fact, people I know who have had it done say it's like having a new pair of eyes. Everything is supposed to look brighter and clearer, and I'll never have to be concerned about distance vision again. Damn, I thought cataract surgery was for old people. Then I realized, I am an old people.

I was doing fine with this whole thing until I read the disclaimer in the doctors office this morning; especially #7. It stated, "There are risks involved with cataract surgery such as brain damage, permanent blindness, and death."  'Oh swell, ' I thought!. 'And I'm supposed to sign this!?'

The choice I have is to not have the cataracts removed and go blind, or have them out and enjoy a better quality of life, keeping disclaimer #7 on the back burner.  

I decided, instead of a topical anesthesia just before the surgical procedure, I'm gonna ask for a bottle of Jack Daniels with a straw. Then I'll raise a toast to the world and say, "Here's looking at you", before  I zonk out somewhere in la-la land.

On the other hand, maybe I'll sip some of that JD this evening and opt for the mandatory eye-numbing drops before surgery next week.  They tell me it's no big deal.