In my role of trailblazer among those of my friends who anticipate cataract surgery at some point in their future, I want to provide an update to them.
My reports the day of and the day after the first surgery were: "The roto-rootering on my left eye (aka cataract surgery) was done this morning. I surprised myself by not consciously freaking out ahead of time; I even slept last night. (We'll disregard fragmented dreams about some woman sticking a contact in my eye (female surgeon, implanted lens).) Turned out surgery was a non-event. Although not completely "out", all I remember is colorful, swirly lights. This evening is actually more unpleasant with blurry vision and scratchiness that makes me crave rubbing my eye. (Both known possibilities according to the aftercare sheet.)" "My left eye was blurry and scratchy last night, so I didn't fight it. I went to bed at 7:30. And woke up around 5:30 to a crisper-than-normal view of the dragonfly mosaic next to the bed. I got home a little while ago from my follow-up appointment, where I was told everything is cool. Because the surgery turned out to be no big thing, I'm eager to "see" the results after they do my right eye next week and both eyes are unclouded. Especially considering my right eye is the bad one!"
Now an update almost three weeks post-op on the left eye and two weeks post-op on the right eye. Btw, I'm going to attempt this without my typical smartassness, but... In all seriousness, the last couple weeks have been so miserable, if I can leave anyone else better prepared in terms of questions to ask, good.
Right off the top I'll repeat what I said about the actual surgery: no big thing. I don't think I can count high enough to have been able to keep track of how many numbing and dilating drops they put in my eyes pre-op, and once I was in the operating room under the anesthesiologist's care? Definitely no pain. As I told some people, it will never go on my list of favorite things to do; it's more under the classification of things like mammograms: uncomfortable and a time suck. (Sorry, Guys, not a good frame of reference for you.) Btw, I was disappointed in the second surgery. No swirly, colored lights, and afterward I did remember the doctor instructing me to look different directions. They had told me that might happen. I guess you get the fun ride the first time to entice you back again. (I rambled to them about my third eye not needing done, but that was actually before they gave me any happy juice.)
But (there always has to be that but): the aftermath. We hear about the people who have cataract surgery and then don't have to wear glasses again. Lucky them! But that's just one variation. For others of us there are questions we wish we'd known to ask beforehand and the things we wish we'd known to be prepared for afterward.
I was really only asked one question of import going into this procedure, and with what I've learned since, now wonder why not a couple others. We'll start with the one I was asked because it's useful to have on your radar. They knew going in that I would still need glasses afterward, and asked if I would like the lenses they inserted to correct my near vision or far vision or if I wanted to try mono vision. I think I'll be okay with the quick decision I made, but it would've been nice had I had time to consider it. Now you'll have had time if hit with this question.
My understanding of cataract surgery had been there's a choice between just cleaning out a cataract or cleaning it out plus inserting a lens. Just cleaning wasn't presented as an option to me. I didn't question that; assumed there was a reason cleaning plus insertion was preferable in my case. Back in the day, I wore hard contacts for a few years. They made my eyes horrendously tired. Vanity's a bitch I shortly ditched for the return to the comfort of glasses. It didn't even cross my mind that having a lens implanted might give the same feeling of a foreign object. Yet all these years later, now by midafternoon I have an almost overwhelming subconscious urge to pull the corners of my eyes taut and blink these freakin' things out. Hopefully I will become accustomed. But in the last couple miserable weeks, I've wished I had at least questioned whether options were available.
And while this has no long-term impact I'm aware of, it's definitely a short-term Pain. In. The. Ass. Eye drops. Someone asked me after the fact if the doctor had me on the no-drop plan. I said, "Huh?" I have drops. (Expensive drops.) Two kinds. Each eye. 28 days (and remember one eye started a week before the other). One kind twice a day for the first week. Like I said: P.I.T.A. I asked the nurse about "no-drop" at a follow-up appointment. She knew of the plan, but didn't know the criteria for being a candidate. Do yourself a favor -- if not mentioned, ask about this beforehand.
Now we come to the BAD part. (The previous was just prologue.) We've already discussed the folks who leave surgery with perfect vision, and everything is sunshine, rainbows, and their farts smell like lilacs. Then there are the old folks whose vision isn't entirely corrected, but they're retired so they can plop their asses on the end of the couch and not move again until their eyes are healed. And then there are the folks whose vision isn't entirely corrected, and who have to continue to function in a work environment (me). (Here I'm inclined to babble if I'm not extremely careful.)
I DID try to get info about what to expect in the aftermath. I was told that most people need the day of surgery and perhaps the day after to recover and then are good to go. Leaving me with the impression that my near vision would be corrected and the fog lifted, but I should be ambulating pretty well. I told them I thought I'd take a week's vacation in between in case my vision felt unbalanced before the second eye was done. At that, no advice to the contrary. But after the second eye was done I find that although I have good near vision, for distance I'm left wearing glasses that are SO wrong it's nearly double vision. And the advice given me at my follow-up appointment the next day when I reminded that I'm a working legal secretary was, well you can try a pair of drugstore readers -- but they'll probably be too strong, or just drag your computer closer. No advice on those things requiring distance vision. And I understand: eyes continue to change until they're completely healed. Writing a new Rx before that time would be like aiming at a moving target. (My appointment for Rx isn't until October 8.) But my scheduling of surgeries and/or vacation would definitely have been different had I been forewarned about possibilities such as this.
This, all happening to a woman who has said more than once through the years, "Let me put on my glasses so I can hear you." I'm tired.
I DID try to get info about what to expect in the aftermath. I was told that most people need the day of surgery and perhaps the day after to recover and then are good to go. Leaving me with the impression that my near vision would be corrected and the fog lifted, but I should be ambulating pretty well. I told them I thought I'd take a week's vacation in between in case my vision felt unbalanced before the second eye was done. At that, no advice to the contrary. But after the second eye was done I find that although I have good near vision, for distance I'm left wearing glasses that are SO wrong it's nearly double vision. And the advice given me at my follow-up appointment the next day when I reminded that I'm a working legal secretary was, well you can try a pair of drugstore readers -- but they'll probably be too strong, or just drag your computer closer. No advice on those things requiring distance vision. And I understand: eyes continue to change until they're completely healed. Writing a new Rx before that time would be like aiming at a moving target. (My appointment for Rx isn't until October 8.) But my scheduling of surgeries and/or vacation would definitely have been different had I been forewarned about possibilities such as this.
This, all happening to a woman who has said more than once through the years, "Let me put on my glasses so I can hear you." I'm tired.
Feel free to use me as a bad example.
