I happily bounced into Wellington Hospital, a wee bit scared but not overly worried. I was only having a local anaesthetic, right? I'd be alert, awake. Probably sitting in a comfy chair during the procedure.
Huh? What? I stared at a nurse in horror. I have to get undressed? I have to take off everything, except my knickers? And put on a smock, some matching trousers, booties, a hat? And a dressing gown! I was going into the operating theatre?
A type of plastic sheeting was placed over my face. The surgeon cut an eye-hole in it. A light shone under the plastic and I was told to stare solidly at it. I was not to move.
I wanted desperately to move. I wanted to roll my eyes, to twitch and turn, play the ukelele, ballroom dance. I craved to leap off the bed and run out of that room. I visualised all manner of horrific things going on with my eye. I did hear scraping and probing noises. Or did I imagine that?; were the half a dozen eye drops and the anaesthetic rub that I'd had earlier giving me hallucinations? I gripped the nurse's hand extremely tightly throughout the whole procedure. She had to peel my other hand off the bed railing.
The surgeon and nurses were so kind, except when they sent me home wearing a very unflattering see-through ventilated plastic eye-shade stuck to my face with long strands of white Sellotape, and I had to stop off at the chemist and have a prescription filled. I was sooooooo embarrassed.
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