On Sight (Post-Operative)

Whose is that face in the mask?

When my son suffered a head injury shortly after his first birthday, the one silver lining I could hang onto was that I was glad we live in Cleveland. Say whatever else you want about the Forest City, it is the home to two medical institutions, both of which people come to from around the world for treatment.

That, and that we have insurance.

The procedure itself was remarkable in that it was utterly unremarkable. In the day or so before hand I started to develop fears of what might actually occur. I had agreed to “twilight“ anesthesia, meaning I would be alert, or at least conscious.

Did that also mean that I would be aware of what was happening, even if there was no pain? They would put a gas bubble into my eye. With a needle? They would put a band around the back of my eye to hold the retina in place, did that mean they would be removing my eye from its socket?

With or without a sense of feeling, these things are discomfiting, even traumatizing to think about.

And yet, I can’t tell you what happened. I was awake the whole time, but I have no idea what they were doing. My right eye was covered for protection, so I could see light. As for my left eye, the one being worked on, I couldn’t see anything at all.

A good friend drove me to and from the hospital, other friends brought me pizza for dinner. I need to move as little as possible lying on my right side, so I’m catching up on a lot of television.

Yesterday I watched all of The Bear. last night I watched Good Luck to You, Leo Grande. That one could’ve been a play. Two people in a hotel room. Folks have suggested all kinds of comedies, I’m not really up for that.

So I’m gonna watch Under the Banner of Heaven. Dad liked the book and my son has really gotten me into Andrew Garfield.