Husband’s vision is better than ever

Mom was right. As usual. She had told me long ago that cataract surgery was nothing to be afraid of.

It wasn’t me, but my husband who was having the procedure. Both of us have poor vision but his was more clouded than mine. His cardiologist would have preferred that he wait until a year after his recent heart attack. We gathered second and third opinions and decided to go ahead.

We had preliminary appointments where everything was explained in minute detail. He withstood several eye tests and wore his ugly glasses for what seemed like forever. The children he tutored during school wondered why his eyes were so small behind the lenses. He removed the glasses and showed them that his eyes were the same size as always. They weren’t convinced.

My biggest fear wasn’t that something would go wrong during surgery. My problem is that neither of us likes it when I drive. It wasn’t going to be a choice.

Finally the day of reckoning arrived. He drove to the eye center 40 miles away. More eye tests were performed. Soon I was left behind in the waiting room.

Then something unexpected happened. A tiny woman, I think her name was Carol, came around to those of us in the waiting room. In her hand was a clipboard. She asked for my husband’s family. I raised my hand. She asked if I would like to watch.

Watch? Really? Wow! Yes, absolutely yes. Yes, I would. The other people also said yes.

Carol led me to a tiny room. Hubby’s eyeball filled the television screen. I cringed at the retractors holding his eye open. Carol explained exactly what was happening. At times she used a plastic model of the eye to demonstrate. Her model kept falling apart and pieces rolled across the floor.

In a few short minutes it was over. Carol led me back to the recovery room. Hubby was wheeled in. He was a little loopy from the anesthetic but looked fine. In no time at all they told me to bring the car around.

I drove us home.

When we got home he said his vision was cloudy but he could already see better than before. The next day he remarked that he hadn’t realized that the washing machine was so white. All the colors seemed so much brighter.

Two days later they did his other eye. Again, Carol was there with the clipboard, asking if I wanted to watch. Again, I said an enthusiastic, “Yes!”

I didn’t cringe as much the second time. Carol gave up on the plastic model and pointed things out on the screen. Again, I found the whole thing fascinating.

I drove us home. That evening, he remarked that it felt odd to not take off his glasses before going to bed.

We made a final trip to the eye doc on Friday. It was revealed that he now had better than 20/20 vision. His eyes will continue to heal and the floaters and other minor problems from the surgery are rapidly going away.

Mom was right, there was  nothing to fear. That didn’t stop me from worrying that his surgery would turn out like his Aunt Pat’s. Aunt Pat had been left with watery eyes and blurry vision for the remaining few months of her life.

It is so different from when my grandmother had her cataracts removed. Back then it involved a week or more in the hospital, with her head immobilized most of the time. It is different from when my uncle had his done and dropped dead the following morning from a heart attack.

Medical progress and medical miracles proved that Mom was right. There was nothing to fear and hubby can see better than he ever has before.