Babe goes to the mattresses, where we will soon join him to refresh ourselves after a strenuous day of traveling by mass transit to Boston and back during heavy rains and thunderstorms and spending 3 out of 4 hours at Mass Eye and Ear waiting, waiting, waiting. As Tuck said, "Thank God your time isn't worth anything."
"You'll shoot your eye out," says the mom in "A Christmas Story," and now the wicked awesome doc at Mass Eye and Ear Infirmary informs us the cataract in our right eye is operable and attributable to one or more of the following:
The aging process.
As we told the old boy, Tuck stopped beating us years ago, we don't have diabetes, and we've never been on steroids. That leaves the aging process. The upside was the doctor's residential sidekick's calling us -- sort of -- "young" . . . Most cataract patients are 10-20 years older than we are, while some are 10-20 years younger . . . He recommended without pressuring us that we get the thing done now while we're still in good health. Gak. Goomp had his cataracts removed, one after the other in succession, about ten years ago and loved the results. The procedure costs $10,000, but for you, with insurance, it's a mere $1,000.
That's where we're at. It's the most successful and most performed operation in the nation, if not the universe, says Doc Matthew F. Gardiner of Mass Eye and Ear. He performs eye surgery every Wednesday and has the elegant hands of a surgeon. They make a small cut, remove the cloudy lens and then insert a new, improved artificial lens. 'Guess it's time to bite the bullet. We could be in a bed on the sixth floor at MEEI by mid August with local anesthesia and intravenous fluids. You go in early morning, have the thing done and then go home that afternoon with a patch over the offending eye and a follow-up appointment the next day. 'Hate the thought of it, but seeing through a glass darkly, as we have been through the right eye of late, is no picnic, especially for a visual artist like ourselves. As Goomp always says, getting old is not for the faint of heart. You could lose an eye, but the success rate is 95%.
This morning as we were preparing to resew a button on the little robin's-egg-blue linen blouse we intended to wear to our appointment, we had a horrifying We-R-JuJu moment. JuJu was our beloved Grammy, Mummy's mother who thought the sun rose and set on her little Sissikins up until we hit puberty. In her later years -- she lived to be 92 -- Grammy used to ask us to thread needles for her so she could mend this and that. Her eyesight was fading, so she couldn't see well enough to thread them herself. This morning we found ourselves unable to thread a needle to resew a button on that little linen blouse . . . 'Had to ask Tuck to do it for us. Sigh.