Tuesday, November 26, 2013

What really happened

I wanted to tell you about my cataract op but I am from a family of robust, no-nonsense women, who already think I’m a wimp.

Also, when so many people have worse problems to deal with, it felt self-indulgent to whimper. I mean – I was lucky to have a top eye surgeon on the NHS and for everything to go smoothly and to suffer no pain.

Then on Sunday, a good friend told me that she hated having ops on her eyes, and after they were done, she always wanted to hide in a hole. She pointed out to me that all our instincts are to protect our eyes, so we are fighting those instincts in lying on a table awake, and letting a stranger poke medical implements into them. She said I wasn’t a wimp to hate it. This made me feel better.


So I’m telling you - afterwards, I was cold for five hours. I had to go to bed with all my clothes on, under a duvet, quilt and blanket, and even then switch on the electric blanket.

Bed is the only place I wanted to be, curled up watching crap TV on the iPad, and then catching up with The Archers.

The woman next to me in the hospital waiting room said she would have to have a general anaesthetic if someone wanted to operate on her feet. She couldn’t stand it otherwise.

I talked to Dave about this.

Me:  "Would you be nervous about having surgery on a particular part of your body?"

Dave: "I think I'd feel unnerved if they removed my head.”

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