Anna's Operation & I Got Floaters! Friday's Epic

I got floaters!

I don’t mean the kind that floats on the surface of the water in your commode. I mean little bits and fragments of the membrane that cover your eyeballs.

My floaters started Thursday while I was driving. First I thought it was a gnat pestering my left cheek. But I would swat right through it. Then, I thought it was a tiny spider in that had a thin web line attached to my eyebrow and he/she was swinging back and forth for fun.

And at times it looked like the Moth Man, right up in my face.

After almost an hour of swatting gnat and spider ghosts in front of me I determined I had floaters. A couple years ago Anna found out she had floaters and our eye doctor told her that if was more or less a common occurrence and nothing to worry about unless you see blips of light.

Friday morning at 5:30am I was taking Anna to the hospital for a Carpal Tunnel operation. It was dark. I saw blips of light

I chose not to say anything about it because Anna might have demanded I make a U-turn and take care of my eyes and let her scheduled operation go.

The blips of light looked to be on my left eye as a trickle of drops that fell in bright illumination from the top of my eyeball to the bottom.

At the hospital Anna’s operation went smoothly. The anesthesiologist had plenty of one-line jokes that kept us laughing and the three nurses seemed very efficient.

In fact, the nurses seemed too efficient. They moved about silently, not talking and each knowing what the other must do at certain times… I mean, they talked to us, but they didn’t talk among themselves, it was almost like they were evil beings with a master plan.

The operation was schedule to start at 7:30 but at 7:30 the doctor had not shown up yet. The three nurses and the anesthesiologist stood around in their scrubs with their arms folded talking. I’m sure they were not standing around on their own time. Time is money. The doctor was 15 minutes late. Who paid for the 15 minutes? I suppose that is why we pay high insurance premiums, to allow for some down time.

The doctor strolled in at 7:45 with a back pack. What is a sixty year old man doing strolling in the hospital with a back-back? I wonder if it has anything to do with his image… that is an image of youth, a back pack. I wish I had suggested to him his image would look more youthful if he had a skateboard strapped on his back.

They wheeled Anna out and I was told what waiting room to go sit in, which I went to. There was free coffee and a basket full mostly of fruits but also some packaged Little Debbie pastries. Another reason insurance rates are what they are. I poured me a cup of coffee and ignored the fruits and looked over the pastries. There were only 5 pastries, each a different kind… they had blueberry, banana bread, grain, and I forgot what else.

A young lady came in and went to the basket and picked her out a pastry. That would leave 4. I decided before anybody else came in I had better grab one if I was going to get one. I got the blueberry muffin.

About an hour later the doctor came in, without his backpack, and told me the operation went great.

And shortly after that a nurse came and let me back to Anna’s recovery room which she was out cold.

Again, the 60 year old teenager wannabe doctor came in and checked her vitals and he said she did great. What he was really saying was that he did great!

When she woke up and felt up to it she was released. I helped her get dressed and the nurse came in and went over instructions of what she could and could not do and what she should do she added, “Oh yes, somebody sent you flowers.” And she left and came back with a little roses arrangement in a vase. It was from the wannabe teenager 60 year old doctor who operated on her.

I’m sure he would not past on that gesture of kindness on to the insurance payees would he?

We drove home. On the way home I told Anna about the lights I was seeing – the blips of light. After I got her settled she insisted I call our eye-doctor’s office and explain tell him.

I called and talked to the nurse Stacey. Stacey looks like Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Why is it always that the nurse that is the doctors’ examination room assistants are always named Stacey or Tracy and look like Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

She said I needed to come right up. I said I couldn’t, my wife just got out of surgery, what about Monday? She said she would talk to the doctor. She called back in about 4 minutes and said, in so many cheerleader-type words, to get my ass up there NOW!!!

Anna said she would be fine. So, I headed to the doctor near downtown Marietta. I got a premium parking place right up front by the door. Then, an old woman came up and wanted to know if I could help boost her off, her battery was dead. I said sure, so I left my premium parking place and met her at her beat up old truck over a block away. I did all the work, hooked the batteries up to the booster cables and after we got her truck running I unhooked everything and shut the hoods. She shoved a $5 bill at me. I refused it and told her to pass the favor on.

Then, I went back and believe it or not, the same parking place was available.

I was more or less rushed right in. The nurse dilated and deaden my left ball, first the nurse looked at it in all different angels then the doctor came in and did the same.

He said the floaters are common among people my age and even younger, and it more or less solves itself in time. But, the light means part of my retinal cover is tearing away also… which is bad, is very serious. He said if that happens they will have to reattach it will laser surgery. He told me if doesn’t progress than it will probably be okay, but if does, then they need to do something.

He told me not to make any sudden moves with my head and in general take it easy. He said it is crucial now for the next three or four weeks. I am to see him again in about 3 weeks.

And I came home and Anna was fine. I have to help her with some stuff that takes both hands and take notes for her, but she quickly learning how to maneuver around with just one had. We have an appointment with the young 60 year old teenager doctor the day after Christmas to have the stitches removed.

As I typed the above, thinking about her next appointment I thought about his waiting room. A whole big wall is decorated with record album jackets, concert books, and concert posters, all signed by famous singers, such as Paul McCartney, The Boss, and so on… I can’t off hand think of them all, but enough to cover the wall. Is he a groupie too? I think a skateboard may not be such a bad idea after all.