The implant is done. That's what cataract surgery is--a new lens is implanted.

The procedure takes ten minutes, give or take a few seconds and there is no pain or discomfort.

I lay on a narrow gurney in the corridor when the surgeon came out to greet me and quickly squirted drops in my eye; this was the anaesthetic.

They wheeled me into the procedure room and kept me on my stretcher.

A white plastic material was taped to my face, exposing only my left eye and a sedative was injected into the i.v. in my arm.

Here's where the magic comes in--the light shining over my face is what I stare at--that's my job--stare at the light and don't move. And not once do I feel the urge to shrink away from what might be happening.

I don't feel or hear anything that makes me queasy and the surgeon tells me the basics as he works. It's a cheerful room and everyone seems relaxed.

I am never conscious of any instrument or anyone touching my eye, just some liquid poured in few times.

For a few seconds the pink/white light turned sky blue in the center and that was when the surgeon asked for the new lens.

I remember thinking, "wow--he removed my lens from my eye."

Then there was an electric buzzing sound and I decided he must be fastening in the lens.

Done.

I was wearing a see-through patch and out of there and back in the car in less than half an hour and requesting some drive-through food.

If you look closely at the picture (and I'm a good sport for showing it to you) you'll note that my left pupil is still fully dilated.

The only after-effects were a feeling of a scratchy left eye and the first set of drops I applied felt like salt on a raw wound, but only for a second or two.

So that's it. All the cloudy nuisances are gone from the eye and now I can look forward to having the other eye done soon.

The Eyes Have It

Today is cataract surgery day and I'm curious about many things:

How is it that one sits (lies?) quietly, fully conscious while this is being done?
wouln't I try to move my head the way we try in the dentist chair?
what if I sneeze?

I asked my pals who have had it done.
"Well, it doesn't hurt."
"It's not too bad."
They got full marks in the totally clueless department, so I'm left believing they dope us to the gills and we don't care what's being done.

Did you know the new lens they install is not human? I always thought they were, as we politely say, donated.

I did get over the fear of eye drops; twitching anything close to the eye gave me the willies.
A good cure for that is to take three different kinds of drops four times a day.
Now I'm a pro.

So, I'll go have this adventure today and report back tomorrow.

The big question--will I see better?

Awesome Gardener

"Mom, please come to dinner and bring lots of plastic containers. There are berries to pick."

Raspberries are new to Aw; so is her very own garden.
She didn't know about either of those things in Thailand, where other people did the food shopping and the garden-tending and she inherited a huge raspberry patch in her new Canadian place.



The Pad Thai was fabulous as always and she also served something I couldn't pronounce that was essentially a curry dish poured over rice. It was wonderful.

Fully sated, we set to work. Now picking raspberries is enjoyable but it was a dampish evening and the kamikaze mosquitoes were out in force, probably carrying some vicious new flu strain that will wreck my coming trip to Cuba.



We picked seven pints. Awesome always insists on photographic evidence to send home.

She picks up on customs so quickly but she stands firm on the business of watering the garden. Sprinklers are too slow. End of discussion. Therefore she stands, all five feet of her, hose and nozzle firmly in hand while she gives individual attention to every plant and bush.

You go, sweet girl.

Varmints and Canada Day

I made this cake for the annual Canada Day family party and they all agreed the maple leaf in the center looked suspiciously like Cannabis.
It's a jelly bean Canadian flag is what is is.

On an entirely different matter, some critter chewed right through this heavy- duty plastic barrel that stored the bird seed.


Personally I blame the squirrels. I used to love the little beasts before I moved to Toronto, where they are in almost as large supply as pigeons.
There is absolutely nothing lovable about a squirrel. Albert Schweitzer would have been hard-pressed to think of something nice to say about the litle rodents.
Anyway, when I packed up and moved from Toronto a few miles west to Waterloo, you'd think I left a trail of bread crumbs and now they're here. Multi generations of them.
I bought a steel can for the bird seed. let's see them rack up a dental bill on that.