Some time ago- what seems like another lifetime ago- I had cataract surgery to remove the cataract from my right eye. I am awaiting the scheduled date for the left eye procedure.
I had high hopes for cataract surgery. It is something that I have been anticipating for a number of years, but the optometrist kept saying that it was not yet time. This year, I did not even bother going to the optometrist. It was clear (or, really, unclear!) to me that something had been off for at least a year. Even with new prescription glasses in Spring of 2024, my eyesight was significantly worse than in years past.
You know how, when you are losing weight, there are a few signs that you might be reducing before you really see significant weight loss on the scale? Like the way clothes fit? I had a few of those indicators happening to me that suggested, before any eye care professional told me, that my vision was reducing. Here are a few:
- In my church, we have a large monitor at the front of the worship space that projects words to prayers and hymns. I used to be able to read it in my usual position towards the back of the church. This year, I am lucky to realize there is in fact a screen with letters projecting on it.
- I don’t have any problem driving, really. What I do have a problem with is reading street signs. I have to have a lookout to identify where to turn. At first, Max did not realize that this was his job when we went somewhere unfamiliar. It isn’t so much navigating as it is divining the names of streets. He would repeat the name of the street when I asked for help with directions. The problem was that I heard him the first time and I know the street I need to turn. I just don’t know where said street is. I can usually see the street sign, but making out the letters on the sign is beyond me. This is difficult enough on city roads, but it is geometrically more perilous on freeways and turnpikes. The issue is that the words “NORTH” and “SOUTH” have the same number of letters and look indistinguishable to me until I am almost upon them. The same is true of “EAST” and “WEST.”
- Movies with subtitles or closed captioning- those have been a hard “no” for me for at least a year.
- Last summer, I spent about two months helping out in our church financial office. I found it exceedingly difficult to read the tiny little numbers I was inputting. I put it down to the fact that the monitor was on the smaller side. When our beleaguered IT staff installed a larger one, I found that the problem was not as related to the size of the screen as it was to the size of the cataracts which were obscuring my vision.
After over a year of ignoring these phenomena, it was time to make my annual appointment with the optometrist. In my heart of hearts, I knew that I was too far gone for a simple adjustment to my prescription and was also slightly suspicious of the optometrist who simply upped the ante on my glasses last year. I consulted Dr. Google and made an appointment with an ophthalmologist.
It took virtually no time to confirm my own diagnosis. The doctor examined me after two other technicians first spelunked around my eyeballs. The technicians both said… “yep, those are cataracts all right.” It apparently did not even take a medical degree to come to that conclusion. Of course it did not. I was ahead of the curve, and I never even took a biology class after the eighth grade.
The ophthalmologist hurt my dignity by informing me that it was extremely common for people over 70 to need cataract surgery. I pointed out that I am 65 and, therefore, much too young for cataracts. He added further insult to my self-perception of youthfulness by explaining that I have wrinkly retinas. I did not even know that retinas could have wrinkles. Beyond exploding my own mythology, that also meant that my options for the surgery were going to be more limited. I was not going to be one of those people who are able to come out of cataract surgery and throw away their eyeglasses forever. I would see better at a distance, but I would still need prescription glasses for optimal distance vision. Additionally, there would be no way of correcting near vision with the surgery so I would need readers in the short term and bifocals or trifocals when all was said and done.
I had my first surgery in early June. It went well. Afterward, an optometrist that works in the surgeon’s office removed the right lens from my glasses, saying that I would see better (although not at the level we will theoretically achieve when all is done) with no lens than with the lens that was in the glasses. I spent the first few days closing alternate eyes to see the profound difference in vision after the cataract surgery. After a couple of days, things seemed to regress. Things didn’t look as clear and I was experiencing headaches, dizziness, and nausea. At the two-week mark, I saw the optometrist again. He assured me that my eye looked beautiful (except for that part about the wrinkly retina presumably) and was healing exactly the way it should be. He explained and YouTube later confirmed that my unpleasant ocular shenanigans are common. My brain is too confused by the extreme difference between my sight in the two different eyes. The right eye with the bright shiny new lens is working way too hard to compensate for the slacker left eye, which has all but given up the ghost.
It was heartening to know that the surgery was a success and there are no unusual and dangerous complications. Once the optometrist lulled me into this sense of relief and euphoria, he dropped the bomb. I could not get the second surgery until August 6th. Then, I would have to wait a month for both eyes to be completely healed before he could write a new eyeglass prescription for me. Then, it would take another couple of weeks to get the new glasses. At that point- some time in mid-September- I should be happily identifying objects at far, middle, and near distances. That is the hope, and I am clinging to it. However, I do retain certain doubts. To paraphrase Robert Browning, “A woman’s reach should exceed her grasp or what’s a heaven for?” I am hoping that God is not waiting until I get to heaven for me to discern the difference between NORTH and SOUTH.
Presuming there is a light at the end of the tunnel (and I am taking the fact that there is a light (and, honestly, that there is even a tunnel) I simulate seeing by cobbling together a wide range of eyeglass options. I have my old set of bifocals, minus a lens in the right side. I have a pair of readers, I purchased some blue light blocker non-magnifying glasses, old prescription bifocal sunglasses (with the original lenses on both sides,) and a set of the dorky plastic post-surgery sunglasses provided by the ophthalmologist. For some activities, I wear one pair out of my arsenal of eyewear. For other activities, I wear two pairs at once. I juggle the various options, trying and discarding various combinations when different activities require me to shift vision priorities. The floor wobbles when I walk, I have given up even trying to follow the worship service in the prayer book and hymnal.
This too will pass. In another seven weeks, I will probably have deluded myself into thinking “it wasn’t that bad.” And if the second surgery goes horribly wrong, I still have one eye that works.
Have you had cataract surgery? What was your experience like? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.
Have a clear-sighted day!