Postop report

Yesterday, an ophthalmic surgeon removed the cataract from my left eye and replaced with a new lens that is supposed to adjust for distance and near vision. The operation went well. My sensitivity to anesthetics is such that I'm still feeling a little loggy. On the bright side of that, I sleep long and well when I let myself lie down.

The eye is still a little swollen from the surgery. That means that I see double in an odd way. Images are on top of one another instead of side by side (what happens when your eyes cross). If I move my head to the proper angle, the images re-impose themselves on one another. It's kind of cool. But, alas, that effect is already changing back to normal vision. At present, my distance vision is binocular, but I haven't noticed any effect on near and intermediate distance vision As my eye goes back to its normal size and shape, that may change. At worst, I'll be far sighted and have to wear reading glasses. Well, that's necessary now, so no sweat.

I do have to say that this really appeals to my love for gadgets. I feel like I did the first Christmas I received an electric train set. The night before, I had been too excited to sleep. But I did get a little sleep. I awoke early that Christmas morning and crept into the living room where we had set up a live tree and decorated it. The tracks ran around the tree and the lovely steam engine with its trail of cars was on the tracks. The transformer was plugged in. It was torture to wait until the rest of the family awoke so I could run the train and sound the whistle. But then... Ah bliss; the engine even puffed steam (it had to be fed tablets to do that).

At that time, our house sat atop a basement and garage. The living room overlooked the drive and front yard. As I ran that train around its track, I could imagine the view that the engineer and passengers had, with our living room and then front yard with its persimmon trees flashing by.

This year, I don't have to imagine. But I do have to wait for things to even out and work the way they're supposed to do. Waiting is not my favorite thing. But the Army taught me patience, sort of.

The image, by the way, isn't of that old tree, but of a modern one in my daughter's home.