I can see clearly now......

......if I take my specs off. My new eye is as good, or perhaps better, without specs as my other eye is with them. But things wont be entirely right until both eyes have been operated on and I've new prescription lenses in my spectacles.
My only fear before last Thursday's operation was that my blood pressure would be sky high, though I'd taken a ton of medication, Lercanidipine and Indoramin, in an attempt to lower it. It worked before - but not this time. I'd been told they wouldn't operate if the diastolic bit was above 90. It was 106. "Don't worry, it will come down" the nurse said. In the two hour interval before plodding off to the theatre Nightwish - a Finnish symphonic metal band - kept me relaxed and entertained with their 'End of an Era' album.
I hope it wasn't a portent!

From my window - the Hospital where I'm spending too much time. (Click pictures to enlarge)

   I was first on the afternoon theatre list, scheduled for 2 o'clock but running a few minutes late, as they do. Karen, the anaesthetist, was instantly reassuring and I'd every faith in the surgeon, Mr Musa, so no fears as I shuffled my head into a comfortable position on the operating table. Until nurse said "I'll just wrap this round your arm to monitor your blood pressure". But it was OK, Nightwind had done their job. Nurse later told me it was down to 85 which was quite acceptable. The last thing I remember was chatting to Karen about running....

Then a voice said "You've had your operation Mr Booth".

 "What time is it?" I asked. 

"Quarter to five" the voice answered. 

Gosh, had I been out all that time? 15 minutes later I was wheeled back to the ward where my wonderful partner came to join me, somewhat agitated and wondering why things had taken so long. I'd a sore throat. "Perhaps you're starting with a cold" some dumb male nurse had opined in Recovery. Sorry, but he should have known about cuffed tubes...

Looking across the valley to the wilds of West Nab

"Get dressed when you're ready, but we can't let you out until you've been to the bathroom" nurse said.  I'd had nothing to drink since 7.30 in the morning, so nothing to go to the bathroom for. What's more, my legs felt to be buckling whenever I tried to stand, let alone walk. I eventually managed to shuffle across the ward and back singing a chorus of Summer Wine (honestly) but not quite as elegantly as Lana del Rey dancing on that beach. By 6.15 I was on my way home - but far from rejoicing. I felt absolutely terrible.

I can see clearly now, the rain has gone

 My sore throat wouldn't let me eat anything so I'd three glasses of chocolate milk, then off to bed. I'd to be up at 7am next morning for another appointment with Mr Musa who was dumbstruck to learn I'd been discharged from Hospital with no drops or medication. He shot out of the consulting room like Usain Bolt starting a 100m race and hurtled up to the ward to give Sister a severe reprimand. Due to lack of medication, pressure had built up overnight in my eye and had to be released.

Alright for some - my physio out for a run

  Anyway, things are looking up, so to speak, and I've managed to type all this without wearing specs, which would have been impossible before. I met my physio, Ian Sinicki, while out for a walk today. "Where's your glasses?" he asked. I told him I could see more clearly without them, albeit a little disorientated, "The ground seems to be in a different place" I said, "and my feet have difficulty finding it". It was frosty too and I went crashing to the ground in one spot, going back down the hill. For the life in me, I daren't run....

But I will, one of these fine days!