Seeing the New Year in Clearly

I guess you've all heard my complaints that once you reach sixty and get to the top of the hill it's all downhill from there. I'm going to start calling Mac Speed Racer if he doesn't knock it off! He's been complaining lately about not being able to see all those little minute connections that put together the computer motherboards and the rest of that super highway to the Internet. You know, he builds them. The one I've used for the past year is a Mac...as in made by, not as in Macintosh. It's held up beautifully and I refuse to let him "tweak" it. As it turns out, that's probably the best decision I've made for myself in years. After all, you must be able to see to tweak.

Last week after hearing the umpteenth complaint about how he's just falling apart, can't see and half the time can't hear (like all men he has selective hearing) on the portable phone, I came to a decision. First, I called and made him an appointment at the Optometrists. That appointment was carried out last Wednesday. The news was not good. In fact the news was disturbing to me and I found I couldn't concentrate enough to come in and post anything new. I couldn't make myself want to decorate anything other than the tree. Not only did she find two cataracts that were giving him major problems, there was a suspicion of macular degeneration. I knew that the cataract problem was (generally) easily reversible, but not the other. I knew that macular degeneration could rob him of his sight permanently. He is too young for that.

He is so blamed stubborn about things that I could see the situation unfolding like this. I'd be on the phone to both Good and Evil Sister arranging a kidnapping to get him to the Opthomologist if he needed the kind of treatments for the Macular Degeneration that I've heard about. I'm not saying he's a chicken (who's doing that clucking?) but he doesn't like anything to do with needles and the like. If I told you the lengths I had to go to to get him to have the quad bypass surgery done in March 1999 you wouldn't believe me. No, you really wouldn't. So, I've been understandably nervous all week. Well, the appointment with the Eye Surgeon was today. They took Mac to the back, alone. I sat in the waiting room with my new Ann Rule book and couldn't concentrate on one word. I read the same page three times before I gave it up. In a bit, the nurse came back and got me and took me to the room where Mac was waiting.

He told me he'd watched a video on cataracts and the procedure to remove them. He didn't appear to be ready to run, so I sat back and relaxed. We were laughing like hyena's (laughter being the best medicine) when Doctor Seltzer entered the exam room. Mac's eyes had been dilated (he looked like Kermit the Frog, that's how I knew) and Dr. Seltzer explained a bit about what he was going to be looking for. He asked Mac if he knew anything about Macular Degeneration. Mac told him he didn't, and Dr. Seltzer told him they'd cross that bridge when they got to it. He began the exam.

A few minutes later, we got the good news. There was no Macular Degeneration, but there was a small problem with the Iris that wasn't really to bad at this point (in one eye). But he did have cataracts in both eyes, the one in the left eye being the most pronounced. " And that's the one that has to go first, " Dr. Seltzer said, very matter of factly. He explained that the procedure would take less than six minutes, how it was done and that he would like to do the other one two to three weeks after the first. I sat there with my mouth hanging open as Mac agreed to get the surgery. On December 28th. This year. He rarely surprises me anymore. This time he left me flabbergasted. After all, I had heard the same horror stories from his father about his surgery that Mac had. They were not pretty. They were not conducive to decision making after the hearing of them.

We made the arrangements for the blood work, seeing Dr. Moyd for the pre-surgery exam on Monday, and took the prescription for the drops he'd need and I was still in shock. He was agreeable to having it done. He wasn't making those clucking noises I'm so used to hearing when it comes to major surgery. Okay, so it's not really clucking, it's more like hemming and hawing, but still. So as of 2010, Mac will be seeing clearly for the first time in a long time. That's not to say I'm not hiding truck keys and suitcases...I still don't trust this "I'm going along with everything you say" man. I've lived with him since October of 1968. I've learned his ways. So the surgery will be done. And I've already warned him what is going to happen if he looks at me and says, "damn baby, when did you get old?"