Thursday, October 24, 2013

The World Needs More Chocolate Eyeballs

Yes. This is an eyeball greeting card. It's plastic, liquid filled, and the iris floats around in there. Aren't Papyrus cards the best!? 

After my surgery on Tuesday, I opened my eyes and immediately could tell that my vision was vastly improved.

What an amazing experience. Absolutely astounding. Incredible!

The procedure took all of about fifteen minutes, if even that long. But in that short span of time, I was given the priceless gift of sight.

As they wheeled me into recovery, I felt like a kid in a candy store. And, because Versed makes me blab, I described everything to everyone nearby. As my gurney rolled from the OR into the recovery room, I was pointing and gabbing:

LOOK! I can read the exit sign! Hey!! My eyes match!! The colors are so vivid and pretty! Blah! Blah blah blah blah blah!

I wanted to run out into the street and stop cars driving by to tell people the good news.


As I was given my post-op instructions, the nurse could hardly suppress her giggles at my exuberant reaction to the whole experience.

Yesterday, my friend Naomi took me to my post op appointment and my blabbing continued with the clinic staff. I gave them gift-wrapped chocolate eyeballs, an eyeball thank you card, and gave and received hugs all around.

It was a party. A post-cataract party. Woo hoo!

Before I left, I told Dr. Young Gal: In all seriousness, I really do want to thank you for your skill in giving me clear vision back. I hope that I never take the ability to see well for granted. Ever.

Which made her tear up a bit. "Julia. This is what I do every day, and it's what I studied for all those years. It's been my privilege to do this for you."

Sniff. More hugs.

As we left the parking lot, it occurred to me that my effusive gratitude was not something that the staff witnessed every day, even though surely they saw patients with more serious vision issues than I had and had treated them with equally good results. Why should a small gift and a silly card be such an unusual thing?

All it took to bring everyone to laughter, tears, and hugs was a four dollar bag of chocolate eyeballs. And a heartfelt thank you. Powerful stuff.


Kelly said...

Wonderful news about your eyesight! Thanks for chronicling this newest adventure. As always, leading the way for and giving hope to the rest of us, many of whom are growing cataracts that will eventually need to be removed.

annie said...

It's not the chocolate eyeballs,or the card, although I'm sure they all got a good laugh at your good sense of humor and appreciate the chocolates.

I think because of all your health issues, maybe you were more appreciative of your cataract operation than most. This is something you had a decision in making and a control over. They were lucky to have such an easy going patient.

Angana said...

Isn't gratitude amazing! And I, too, am surprised that it in't expressed more often. I love your exuberance and whimsical style, Julia! You give all of us Pollyannas and silly, joyful people a standard to aspire to. More power to you :-D

ShEiLa said...

So thankful for. Versed and drugs that make us blab. Hahahahaha! I love that you can see so very well... Can you imagine how much more fun you will have taking your awesome photographs. Cha-Ching!!!

I was at my rheumy today and I was shocked at the miserable treatment given to the health professionals... My mother-in-law said, do you think some patients are cranky because they feel badly? Or what? My opinion is that the people that can help me are the ones I want to be the nicest to.

Got your email... I will respond soon.

Annette said...

Cataracts are in my future. You're so enthusiastic and reassuring. Eyeballs, mousies what's next!!. I am just not appreciative enough of those who help me. Actually I did try to say nice things to the hand surgeon but he did not want to hear it. Maybe he thought the scar was less good than I did.
Or maybe it was his bad shoulder. I never thought of surgeons getting repetitive strain