OCH EYE THE NO, NO, NO, NO!

I am not that familiar with my body parts. As long as they all work as designed then I am fine with that. My eyes are important to me as I guess they are to all. When, a few years ago I was told I had the start of cataracts then I spoke to several people who agreed that the operation to remedy this issue was trouble free and recommended me to join the list of excited patients.

I suppose my cataract could be a glassblowers issue since I have been working hot glass for over fifty years now Glassblower’s cataract I have used eye protection in the shape of didymium but obviously I could not escape the eye knife!

I have been given lots of information about how the eye works, what are cataracts and how they are treated. I ignored most of this due to my OAI condition. This means that I suffer from “Over Active Imagination” which is similar to “AI” but less depressing. If you are a David Gilmour fan, then “OAI” means “On An Island” his third solo album!

So, there I was receiving eye drops sitting comfortable in a group of five liked minded patients. I was bemused that they all seemed so jolly whereas I was terrified. Patients were taken to another room one at a time and returned with smiles on their faces singing “I Can See for Miles and Miles”! That last statement is a lie but remember I do have “OAI” and like The Who.

My time came to be fitted with a hat and more eye drops which I had hoped would calm me down. Unfortunately I took the shakes and my mind switched to manic mode where I felt I was on a film set of “Soylent Green”

As I was wheeled into the surgery room my breathing went into hyper drive where I was breathing out more than breathing in. I had read that nurses would be available to hold patients’ hands should that be required. Oh boy did I feel the need to hold as many hands as possible. Two nurses came to my rescue to hold each of my hands. I was told to breath in and breath out slowly whilst counting to five. I tried this and started counting out aloud to I think the bemusement of the medical staff. Apparently, I didn’t have to shout out the numbers.

My face was covered but of course I could see a bit (not for “Miles and Miles”!). Someone asked me what I did, and I knew this was an attempt to settle me down. I replied, “I am a glass artist and thus my eyes are vital to me so please go easy on me.” The “small talk” turned to what I made, and I was soon chatting about glass eyes and making reading glasses. I was not chatting so much as making a spectacle of myself. I can’t believe I am the only person to feel like this. Can I?

The nurse on my left explained she has to pass my hand over to the nurse on my right as she needed to deal with other patients which were not making such a fuss as me. I imagined the nurse left is still treating her bruised fingers from my squeezing.

My concern on how I was going to keep my eye open as it was being treated was met with the explanation that two clamps would be fixed to the upper and lower lid. Funny how this did not relax me.

To cut a long story short I emerged from the surgery room wearing a plastic eye shield to be greeted by a nurse who looked at me and decided I looked like I need a vodka! I stumbled back into the waiting room to feel all the eyes of the waiting patients on me. I could imagine that there must have been thinking of me, what a pathetic looking creature, what a wimp of a man and a cry baby as well.

My hand was shaking as I drank coffee but thankfully not enough, they would make me spill boiling liquid all over me. I pretended I wanted to use the toilet but only to look in the mirror to see what I looked like. YUCK! A sight for sore eyes!

Big thanks to all NHS staff in Wick Caithness General Hospital eye department who had to suffer my emotions. I will if there is to be a next time take your advice and seek sedatives.