My eyes are just now starting to adjust. I went to an opthamologist at SF General Hospital and had my one good eye dilated. He was checking my cataracts to see if they could be safely removed surgically. There is always risk involved in such an operation, and in my case that risk would involve possible blindness. However, the doctor seemed to think the chances were one in a hundred of there being a problem. Also, now is the best time to get them removed, and my eyesight would come out better than ever. I wouldn’t even need glasses except possibly for reading, he said. That sounds pretty good, considering that right now pretty much everything is blurry in my life. I have to lean in close to the computer screen to type which is hard on my back. People’s faces are blurry. It makes it hard to keep a job, so if I can get this handled, all the better.
I suspect a lot of my readers are familiar with the dull disrespectful drill involved in visits to a public hospital, which is the only recourse for someone unemployed and dependent on public assistance for his/her health. It involves being herded around like cattle into and out of rooms and hallways, and made to wait and wait and wait and wait and wait and wait a very long time. My appointment was at 2pm and I got home at 5:20pm. Actually that’s not so bad, it felt like six hours. Some poor soul was still waiting his turn when I left. It wouldn’t be as bad if it weren’t for the disrespect. The doctor was fine, but the nurses were short tempered and treated you like just another body to deal with. I understand the work is stressful. I certainly wouldn’t want to be in their shoes. A lot of people complain endlessly about the wait, which gets on everyone’s nerves. Going to the doctor can be kind of stressful even without all that additional nonsense. But it can’t be avoided. Too many people, too little facilities, too few staff, and you end up with tired, pissed off people all the way around.
And so, hopefully in about three months I will be cataract free, although I may not have an apartment to go home to. I will be able to see my plight more clearly than before. But maybe not. Perhaps something will come through. If I get a job,I could explain that I am getting an operation soon to get my eyesight back. I gotta think positively, right? But that stuff they use to dilate your eyes gives you a major headache, or maybe that is from the stress on the eyes. I hate it, and the checking out was no picnic either, ‘Look right! Look left! Look up! Look down! Really look down!’ and it hurts! My eye doesn’t know what the hell it’s doing and I’m trying to give it the right instructions, but it’s tired and wants to go home. So I’m not looking forward to that drill again. What a whiner I am! There are certainly worse visits to the doctor. Now when you have the money to go to one of those fancy joints you get the friendly nurses who make the whole thing a lot more bearable. That’s my goal, to go to the fancy doctor’s with the cute and friendly nurses. Especially if I need to get my prostrate checked.
Oh, and another thing! The Rain. We need it here in San Francisco, and we got it. It wouldn’t have been bad walking in it except the wind made trying to use an umbrella just plain silly. So I just got wet. So now I will get a cold just in time for when I may be starting a new job, if in fact I get the job (I should find out this week). So let’s see, any other grumpy old man stuff I can lay on you? I was looking forward to working on my blog tonight, but my vision is still a bit blurry, I have a headache, so maybe this will be my only contribution on this blessed thirteenth of March. I want to thank the people that take the time to read my blogs. I appreciate it. I try my best to check out your work as well. I am seriously thinking of trying to do some Flash animation to depict …..oh I shouldn’t give it away. I am going to try to use even more ways to bring my fiction alive. Perhaps some music as well, if I can get the hang of Garage Band on my Mac. I have a lot of stuff I want to blog about, although if I land a job I won’t have as much energy to devote to it, I suspect. I am so so old. You have no idea how old I am. I can barely see, barely move my fingers, my back is screaming in pain, I can’t walk too well, and the bathroom is horror incarnate. I am 58 but I feel 75. I may die soon. Seriously!
No, not seriously. I made all that up, except for my age and the part about the bathroom. Actually horror incarnate doesn’t even begin to describe the terror. Right now, as I’m writing this I feel about thirty years old. Sometimes I feel younger and dance around my apartment like a complete idiot. (where did we get this idea that idiots dance? Or do anything? True idiots don’t do much of anything except drool.) Other times I feel old, about 63 or so. Other times I feel exactly my age.
I wish Stock Photo Woman could have been there with me, at the hospital today. Then the wait wouldn’t have been so bad. Oh, wait, she is with me at the hospital in my fictional world, isn’t she?