How good is a proper shower?

Hi there
Yesterday, the eye doctor gave me the go-ahead to shower properly, and swim, and most of the other things that cataract surgery has prevented me from doing.  He's still a bit wary about me tripping over tree roots when I'm out hiking, but I can live with being barred from that. Maybe.

It's just sad that during the time Wellington's temperature was in the high twenties I wasn't allowed to swim and today when I can swim the temp is 16c/18c.  And there's lots of those tiddly little jellyfish.  And ultra-low tide.

cataract surgery - my aftermath

Hi there

Well, it's been over a week since my surgery... and I hate it! There's no pain or anything like that, it's just the inconvenience of it all,   Eight eye drops a day, spaced out at different times is truly annoying.

And I can't swim because contrary to what we all think about sea-swimming, the sea is absolutely bacteria-ridden.

And this is about the hottest summer New Zealand has had in, perhaps, a hundred years.  I sit in the back garden most days.  Then I'm so hot that I crave a shower.  Half a dozen times a day.

And this leads to the next problem:  showering.  I can't get shampoo or soap or grit or any foreign bacteria-ridden thing in my eye.  I tried all sorts of things not to get my eye bumped, scratched, soaped or wet when in the shower. After lots of experimentation (mainly out of the shower), I hit on the perfect showering solution for when I want to cold shower many times in one day.  And here it is:

A bucket on my head!!!

I still have trouble washing my hair.  And after more experimentation, I now have one hand holding a big fluffy bunched up towel over my bad eye,  and the other hand (trying to) wash my hair.

Sigh.......

My cataract surgery

Hi there

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.

 

 Above:  one of the rooms I waited in.  The nurse left me so as I could change outfits and read the Patients' Rights' guide.  When she returned, she was surprised to see me actually reading the guide.