Oh say, I Can See!!

You never appreciate peripheral vision until you don't have it and then suddenly have it again!

I went for my post-op visit this morning.  On the way to Kaiser in Sacramento, I was remarking that the GOOD thing about not having vision on one side is that the rising sun didn't get in my eyes.  That perk would not last long.

We arrived at Kaiser and, since there were no clerks on duty, as directed we just went into the waiting room.  Soon other people with eye patches joined us and we compared notes.  "How are you doing?"  "How are YOU doing?"

When Dr. Quiroz came to get me, I learned she was the only person in the office.  No nurses or clerical staff working.  As she led me to the exam office, another woman was coming out and giving her a big thank you hug. I guess we all pretty much felt that way.

I know I did when she removed the bandage and I could READ THE EYE CHART!  Well, only the first two lines, but I READ THEM and I almost kinda read the third line.  (It was a D and a Q and I told her it looked like two Os.  She told me things would get better as the eye healed.)

There is a stitch holding the new lens in place and that will be removed sometime before the end of the month.  She told me she is going off to Brasil for 10 days to visit her husband's family in Florianopolis, so naturally we discussed Brasil.  I asked her if she spoke Portuguese and she said she knows a little (but when I left and said "muita obrigada" -- thank you very much -- and she responded "bom dia" -- good day -- I guessed she hadn't progressed very far yet!)

Ever since we left the office, I have been experimenting with my new vision.  I have to wear sun glasses when I am outside for awhile and the eye still needs eye drops for a few weeks, and it will be a month at least before I can go to the optometrist and get examined for new glasses, but I CAN SEE!!!!!

I was aware of the change as soon as we got on the freeway and I was aware of cars (and big trucks) on my right side again.  Kind of a shock to have them coming along side of us suddenly.

I still close my right eye every now and then (but oddly enough it doesn't automatically close as it has been doing for a very long time).  The prescription on my glasses is wrong for the new lens and so the eyes don't mesh well together.  In fact, when I remove my glasses, the right has almost the same as the left as far as vision, though the astigmatism makes what I'm seeing somewhat cloudy.

I don't know what it's going to be like when everything heals and the swelling inside the eye goes down (I am not aware of it myself), but anything is an improvement over what it was two days ago and I am very happy.

I called my mother this morning to report that my surgery had gone well, though I knew she wouldn't remember I was having surgery--and she didn't, but she was happy it had gone well, though she was disinterested in the details.

Her stepson, who visited her yesterday, had texted me at some point to let me know that she had misplaced her apartment key and he wasn't sure what to do.  By the time I received the message, it was too late for me to make any suggestions, and when he called me today, I realized it would not have done any good at all even if I had returned his text.

Apparently she was very upset about losing the key and he checked everywhere, even in the cushions of the couch and her chair.  He said she was extremely upset and he had never seen her like that before (sounds like she was with me a few days ago)  They managed to get a new key made and so the crisis was averted but when he was getting ready to leave her clock was chiming the wrong time, so he opened the door to see if he could reset it...and there were her keys, inside the clock. 

To my knowledge this is the first time she has done something like this, which is classic Alzheimers behavior (putting objects in weird places).

It's time to check on assisted living for her and now that my eye surgery is over, I can take on that task this week, finding out what resources are available to her and how much extra it will cost....and then whether or not her long term care insurance will cover any of it.  The nice thing about Atria is that "independent living" and "assisted living" are in the same place.  She wouldn't have to move, but she would have more assistance from people who would come to her to do things like manage her meds and make sure she gets to meals.  That would take a huge weight off my mind.

But tonight I am not going to worry about that.  I can see again and I'm going to enjoy that happiness and not concern myself with my mother at least until tomorrow.

Men with Purses

There is a strange phenomenon at Kaiser Hospital at Rancho Cordova.  It's the sight of men wandering around with purses.  These are not "murses' (man purses)...these are regulation women's purses.  They belong to their wives, whom they have accompanied to the eye surgery center and who have gone off to have their cataracts removed!  I left Walt in the waiting room with my purse and my cane and the poor guy had to carry both around while he went off in search of food, since we had to leave so early this morning he didn't get an opportunity to have breakfast.

It all went well and none of the complications that could have happened with this weird eye happened.  This morning I have my post-op exam and have the bandages removed, which will be wonderful because my glasses don't quite fit over the bulk of the bandage and I have to wear my glasses perched on the tip of my nose, which is uncomfortable.  I am actually going without my glasses unless I need to see something clearly.

As the last time I had cataract surgery, 6 years ago, I described it as Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.  I shared that with Mannie, the guy who helped me through everything.  He said he had been to Disneyland for the first time a year ago and he understood my description.

When your name is called, you are taken to a room full of cubicles set off by curtains, each of which was filled with someone with hair nets, paper booties, and covered with blankets.  I changed into a blue hospital gown.  It is called a "Bear Paws" and apparently it is rigged so that if you are cold, it will also warm you, but I wasn't so they didn't plug it in so opted not for that feature.

They set me up in my little chair, which is not unlike a dental chair, but with more protections.  I was reclined, pillows put under my head and knees to make me as comfortable as possible.  Then a saline drop was started in my left arm and a blood pressure cuff attached to my right.  Both arms were fit into kind of a slot into the side of the chair.  I could move them, but the slot kept me from disturbing either the drip or the cuff.

Eventually the Disneyland part of the "ride" started.  I was moved to a cubicle where there was a door in the back of it and given Versed with Fentanyl, which provide pain relief, relaxation, and amnesia. The purpose is to prevent pain and anxiety during the procedure, and if there is any discomfort or stress, the patient is likely not to remember it.  The page I found describing Versed said "Versed is a benzodiazepine, a drug that causes relaxation, sleepiness and can cause a partial or complete loss of memory during the use of the drug."  Considering how much I have slept in the last 24 hours I think that is a fair statement!

Then it started.  The door behind me banged open and my chair began to snake across the room ending up in another smaller procedure room.  All I could see was the ceiling racing by.  During the procedure, my good eye was covered and the cataract eye was held open while Dr. Qiroz began working on it.  As they remove the cataract and the lens all you see are flashes of different colors of lights.  There is no pain but this time I had a weird sensation that "scenes" would pop up in my head as if I were watching TV and my eye would automatically try to follow the characters on the "screen."  I don't remember most of them, but one was a Victorian era family dressed like little Downton Abbey on the Prairie.  Very strange.

I could see the new lens as it was inserted and very briefly, before the eye was bandaged, I could see my doctor.  The first time I had vision in that eye in about 2 years, so I knew it worked.  Then the chair snaked back through the room again, the door banged open again, and I found myself back here I started from, having had a very nice wild ride indeed.

They put me in a wheelchair and took me downstairs, where they had directed Walt to drive up.  

It was 11:30 when we left Kaiser.  I had not eaten since 8 the night before, so we went to a place in Sacramento that we like for Mongolian BBQ.  The hostess was very nice, seating me close to the buffet line so I didn't have far to walk (seemingly unaware that I still had to walk the length of the restaurant to load up my bowl and then back to the table after I had it all cooked!

But it was delicious.  We always skip the chicken, pork and beef options and head right for the lamb, mixed with all sorts of noodles and veggies and sauces to be cooked on that big open griddle.

And then home.  I went right to the recliner and was asleep very quickly.  As I write this it is 6:30 a.m. and, except for waking to eat the half of my BBQ dish, watch Jeopardy, Amazing Race and Gwen Ifill, I have pretty much been asleep since I got home!

I see the doctor at 9:45 this morning and see what I can see!  I'm so glad it's over and that there were none of the complications that we had discussed.  At least as far as I know with the results still under a bandage.

Holidailies Is Starting Again -- I think

I am assuming that since it's December 1, Holidailies is starting again but I can't believe that I am the first to post, but I will go ahead with that assumption.

So...hi everyone!  By way of introduction to readers new to me because they are coming to Holidailies for the first time, I'm Bev Sykes, 72 year old grandmother living in California with my husband of 50 years and our dogs Lizzie and Polly.  I am a very part time theater critic, volunteer at a used book store and our local hospital, and take care of my 96 year old mother with dementia.  Our children are scattered -- Jeri and her husband in Boston, Tom and his family in Santa Barbara, Ned, his wife and dog in Sacramento (the closest to us).  I have been writing this journal since March of 2000 and this is about the 5,719th entry (I sometimes get off by a few numbers)

I have no Christmas theme to begin this with because today was such a crazy day.  On Friday I will be having my cataract surgery so today was my pre-op at 9:45 in Sacramento.  I also was scheduled to work an afternoon stint at the Sutter hospital information desk, my first time working alone after my last orientation session which was about a month ago.  I let someone in charge of the volunteers that I had the morning appointment and expected to be back to start my stint at 12:30, but in case I was late, I wanted to let the person I was relieving know.  I was informed that the person I was relieving said it was no problem and she didn't mind working until I got there.

I set off for Sacramento early and was 30 minutes before my appointment and then was not taken in for an hour AFTER my scheduled time.  I had brought my Kindle with me and then discovered its battery was dead so I downloaded my Kindle book onto my cell phone and marveled at the technology we have at our fingertips.

The nurse did a preliminary exam and told that after my appointment I would have to pick up meds at the pharmacy.  I sent a text to Walt telling him that there  was no way I would get to the hospital by 12:30 and asked him to call the information desk and let them know.

The doctor explained in depth what to expect on Friday and how it might differ from when I had my first cataract surgery 6 years ago.  I have "the worst" kind of cataract in the remaining eye and it is quite thick, so they may have difficulty sucking it out and part of it might fall behind my eye and require a second surgery to clean it up.  The possible problems continued all the way down to blindness in the eye, all of which, I was reassured, were very rare.  I'm holding the good thought.

I went to the pharmacy and was pleasantly surprised that I didn't have to wait forever and was actually back at my car at 11, which meant I would almost assuredly make it to Sutter on time after all.  Knowing that the information desk was covered if I was late, I even stopped off at McD's for a quick cheeseburger lunch.

I realized I had left my lanyard, with my ID information at home, so made a flying stop at the house on my way to the hospital and, amazingly, I arrived at the information desk exactly 3 minutes late.  The person I was replacing had left, leaving me no notes about anything (including the quilt I was apparently supposed to be selling tickets for!)

This is not brain surgery.  I sit at the desk and answer questions, directing people where to go and finding the room numbers of patients for visitors.  Still, there are some routines that I needed to remember and it had been a month since I was there and had never worked alone before.

The first order of business was to log in with my brand new computer ID.  I'd seen it done before.  Log in and immediately a page with all the hospital patients pop up.  Only it didn't for me.  I got some weird database page and could not find the page for the patient list.  There are 2 IT guys, Dotie whom I had met before, and Don, the head honcho.  I saw Dotie and asked him about my problem, but he said he didn't know anything about the Epic program, which we use, and I would have to talk with Don.  I called Don and left a message.

Then I called the woman I replaced and she didn't have a clue about the computer and she, too, told me I'd have to talk with Don.  I called the woman who trained me and she didn't know how to fix my problem, but gave me HER log in and password so I could get the patient list up.  

By logging off as her and logging on as me, I found the problem.  When I looke at her menu options she has something called "secured house census" which is not one of my available options.  So it seemed a simple matter of just adding that to my menu.

Don finally came down to check out thecomputer and I told him what I had figured out and he said "Oh...you're using Epic.  I don't know that program."  He said I'd have to call the Help Desk in Sacramento and gave me their number.

I called the help desk and went through the story for the guy who answered and when I got to a certain point he said "Oh...you're using Epic.  I don't know that program" and said he would transfer me to the Epic help desk.

I finally talked with someone who could understand me and he said he would put in an "incident report" and they would notify me by mail.  So I never did get on Epic on my own account.  I don't know if it will be fixed when I work again (December 8).  In fact, I don't even know if I can work then.  Depends on how the surgery goes.

I came home and collapsed.  It was more activity than I'd had in one day in a long time.  Now I have to go soak my eye, which I must do every night until Thursday, when I start putting eye drops in the eye.

I had an appointment with an audiologist for tomorrow to start the process of getting hearing aids, but I decided that I wasn't up to a lengthy appointment tomorrow, and I have to go check on my mother anyway, so I have asked them to call me in January.

Eye Spy

I usually have an eye exam around the time of my birthday.  This year it was particularly important because I have to renew my driver's license by my birthday next month and over the past year, the cataract in my right eye has expanded so much that it is obstructing my vision to such a degree that "cheating" on the eye exam may be difficult.

I should explain, again, that I have never had usable vision in that eye.  I didn't really know why until I met with the doctor who did the cataract surgery in my left eye several years ago.  He told me -- the very first doctor since my first eye doctor in 1953 -- that there is a congenital malformation in the eye, in addition to the astigmatism.  So it's not that I just have bad vision in that eye, but it's also so misshapen (which isn't visible to the naked eye) that in order to remove the cataract in the right eye would take three surgeries.

We decided then that since I have never used that eye for usable vision, there was no reason to go through that extensive correction.  Should something have happened to my left eye, for example, when I was driving, I had enough usable vision in the right eye that I could see enough to drive to the next off ramp.

It's difficult to explain how I see through that eye.  I am aware that there is some vision there, but since I'm not really using it, my body automatically closes my eye most of the time.  The automatic eye closure has become more often in the last year because I can see that the cataract now covers most of my eye, so that when I close my left eye, all I really see out the right eye is this thick cloud.

At my last appointment a year ago, the doctor and I talked about the right eye again.  This was a new to me doctor and she said that with new techniques it could probably be corrected in only two surgeries.  But the cataract was still on one side of the eye and she agreed with me that there was no need to deal with it unless it started to bother me.

Well, now it's bothering me, a little.  When my body lets my eyelid stay open, I am always aware of the cloud on my right side, so I decided it was time to discuss what exactly would be involved in correcting it (at age almost-71 I wonder what it would be like to have usable vision in that eye.  Imagine--depth perception!   Whoda thunk!)

I also wanted to get a note from the doctor that I was safe to drive with only one eye, in case the DMV decided to give me a hard time about it.  I've been doing it all my life, but I was concerned that this might be the year that they would disqualify me if they know I am not using my right eye.

I left in plenty of time to get to Sacramento in time, and, in fact, sat in the car for about 20 minutes listening to my audio book.

The nurse dilated my eyes, though they never get as dilated as most people's, a doctor told me once.  I was able to continue to read while the pupils were dilating and though I was glad I had my sunglasses with me, I could have driven home without them, if necessary.

The doctor's exam was thorough and confirmed everything I'd been thinking.  We talked for a long time about possible surgery.  She speculates that if I had lived some 60 years without anybody telling me about this congenital deformation, that maybe it wasn't congenital after all, and only looked that way.  The worst case scenario for the surgery would be that in trying to remove the cataract it would fall behind my eye and that would be the reason for one or two more surgeries.  In best case scanario, they could remove the cataract easily, but the vision in that eye would not be improved anyway.

So with that bit of information, I decided to postpone the surgery for a few more years.  She filled out a DMV form for me and I hope to renew my driver's license next week.  Here's your "word of the day."  A pseudophakia is an eye in which the natural lens is replaced with an intraocular lens (in other words, what happens when you have a cataract removed, though looking at the word it sounds like you have a fake fake!)

One question on the form was to indicate when DMV should test my vision again and she put down in 5 years (the maximum).  When she told me that, I could not believe my automatic response.  It just rolled off my tongue.  I said "That's good (chuckle). I could be dead in 5 years. I'm old, you know."  My mother had briefly taken possession of my body and I was speaking in her tongue!!!

Come for the Cheesecake...

...stay for the play

We went off to Winters to see Nunsense tonight.  I really don't like 3-show weeks, but if you have to have a 3-show week, Nunsense, especially at Winters Theatre Company, is a nice way to end it.  Silliness from start to finish.  I didn't have to think like I did last night at the dance production at the university.

I love Winters because on opening night they give you free cheesecake and champagne.  It was fun before the show because we were with Debra LoGuercio, the editor of the Winters Express and prolific Facebook writer (it was she who wrote the immortal words "isn't it nice that Girl Scout cookies are sold in single serving packages."  I laughed myself silly, covered with Tagalong crumbs as I read it!).   There were also two women at our table who were "meeting in the middle for a fun weekend."  One lives in Auburn and one in Vallejo and they figured Winters was the inbetween spot where they could spend a girls' weekend.  Kind of like Lynn and I are doing next weekend. They had gone biking during the day and had read about Nunsense and thought it would be a fun thing to do in the evening.  Fortunately, as the play ended, they were laughing and talking about what fun it was.

The show was fun and a lot of that had to do with a long-time performer with the Davis Musical Theater Company, making her Winters debut in the role of the Mother Superior.  Mary has been with DMTC for years, but when you are with any company "for years," you eventually start aging out of the kinds of roles you have done forever, especially as newer, stronger talent shows up at auditions.   I told Walt I thought Mary was the best thing to happen to the Winters Theatre Company and that the Winters Theatre Company was the best thing to happen to Mary.   It was a happy mingling and it made the show such fun.

We were sitting at a table right in front of the stage and both Mary and Eleanor, another former Davis performer who has worked with Walt before, used him as the target of some of their audience interactions.

Earlier in the day, I had finally had my visit with the ophthalmologist about whether I am going to let them attempt cataract surgery on my "bad" eye or not.

The doctor was another Doogie Howser-type, but then most doctors seem to be Doogie Howser these days.  But she obviously knew her stuff.  She explained in much fuller detail than anybody had ever explained before exactly what the difficulty with this eye is.  She said she was surprised nobody had ever explained it to me until 4 years ago when the guy who did my surgery gave me a cursory explanation.   I realized that though I have gotten regular eye exams for the last 35 years or so, I just always assumed that I was seeing an ophthalmalogist because there is only one eye doctor at Kaiser in Davis.  

Only it turns out that he is an optometrist...he was the guy who told me that my recent eye problems were NOT cataract-related because my cataracts were not "ripe enough."  He put me into a panic of fear of blindness for a month until I finally got an appointment with the opthalmologist in Sacramento.  The very FIRST words I heard from that office was "it used to be believed that cataracts had to be 'ripe' before they were removed, but that isn't true any more."  I have never returned to the Davis eye department and will never return to the Davis eye department.

Anyway, according to Doogette Howser, she thinks that because of a deformed eye, the cataract is growing around in back of the lens, which makes removing it more tricky than your run of the mill cataract.  There is a danger that, given where she thinks it is (but won't know until she gets in there), pieces of the cataract could "drop behind the lens" and that would require a second or third surgery by another specialist to remove the bits and replace the lens.

There are encouraging things about the surgery and scary things about the surgery.  I asked her what she would do if it were her and while she didn't really answer that question, she also didn't cringe when I suggested that we give it another year and see how things are then.  She seemed comfortable with that decision.

So no surgery this year and I'll just go along as before.  I don't use the eye or vision anyway, so even if it couldn't be fixed and I were somehow to lose the vision in that eye entirely, the only reason it would ever be a problem for me is if something happened to the OTHER eye.  

But I feel OK about the decision to postpone making a decision.   Doogette will be a year older next year anyway.  :)

O Say Can't I See?

I felt so smart today.

It was the day I had my yearly eye exam with the optometrist.   On the drive to his office, I was thinking about how my vision has changed in the past year.  For one thing the cataract in my right eye has grown larger and while the opthomologist and I discussed the problems with removing that particular cataract 2 years ago (because of a congenital deformity in the eye, that I was unaware I had) and decided to just leave it alone since I have never used that eye for vision anyway.  But in the past year, I am aware that the cataract has grown which, as I don't use that eye for vision, doesn't really bother me, but I have become aware that on the off chance something happens to my GOOD eye while I am driving, for example, I don't think I could see well enough bad enough to move the car safely to the side of the road. I wanted to talk with the doctor about it.

The other problem is that my vision is not as good as it was a year ago.  I was trying to figure out how to describe the problem because I read signs better than Walt, my short or long vision hasn't really changed, but the overall vision is just...different.  I remembered what I read one time, that if you can't describe the problem with your vision, it's astigmatism.  Anybody with astigmatism will understand that immediately and anybody who does not have astigmatism won't have a clue what I'm talking about.

So when I got to the office, I told the doctor that my vision had deteriorated and that I thought it was a worsening of my astigmatism and told him about the quote.  He did all the vision tests and then said "Well, you're right; your vision has changed and it is your astigmatism."  Yay me.

All this means is a new prescription for glasses, but first he wanted to check with the opthalmologist about the cataract.  They decided I should have a consult when they can fit me in (I told him I've dealt with this for 70 years, so there was no great rush!)

I don't know if I can accurately describe the problem, but a cataract on a normal eye grows over the lens.  Cataract surgery involves removing the lens and the cataract and replace it with a synthetic lens.  With my eye, because the eye itself is "deformed" the cataract wraps around to the back of the eyeball and so in order to remove it, as I understand it (tho I will probably know more after I've had my consultation) is that it will involve three surgeries to first remove the cataract and lens, second, fix the problem, and finally insert the new lens.  

The consult with the ophthalmologist will go over the procedure, the pros and cons, the dangers and the best and worst case scenarios--and then decide if we're going to do it or not.  So I will hold off getting new glasses until I've had that consult and if we are going to do the surgeries, I will wait until we know what sort of lens correction I will need then.

I'm a bit nervous about messing around with an eye that has at least some usable vision, but on the other hand, I've never known what it is to have good vision or depth perception or all those other things that you guys take for granted!

I had a couple of hours to kill after the appointment.  My book club was meeting at 7 p.m. so it was too soon to drive home and then drive back to Sacramento.  Fortunately it was rush hour, so getting from the doctor's office to the book store where our meetings happen took pretty near an hour.  I had enough time to have dinner with 25 minutes to spare.

There were nearly 20 people at the meeting, maybe the largest group I've been part of in the few months I've been attending the meetings.

We were discussing Willa Cather's "My Antonia," and it was a lively discussion.  I was the only person who wasn't delighted with it.  I enjoyed it all right, but I didn't take the deight in it that other people did.  A lot of comment was made about the beauty of Cather's writing and some derisive comments made of Steinbeck's colorfully descriptive passsages, which I love so much.  So I didn't offer much to the discussion, other than commenting about the pronunciation of "Antonia," whether AnTONia, AntoNEEa, or ANtonia.  The group has been pretty much divided between the first two pronunciations (and the e-mail I received after asking that question here and on Facebook was equally divided), but I have never heard ANYBODY use the third pronunciation, though according to the book, that is the proper pronunciation.  All through reading it I kept trying to say ANtonia, but it just did not flow trippingly off the tongue.

Next month we are reading "The Namesake" by Jhumpa Lahiri, our contemporary fiction book.  I haven't started it yet. though Amazon describes it as a "deeply moving family drama that illuminates this acclaimed author's signature themes: the immigrant experience, the clash of cultures, the tangled ties between generations."  Sounds good....perhaps better than "My Antonia" !

BACON Taffy?

I did something unusual today.  I went out and just...wandered.   Well, I started out at a specific location.  I had an eye doctor appointment in Sacramento.  There is an eye clinic in Davis, but the doctor here was the ojne who threw me into panic telling me that my cataracts weren't the reason why my vision was so horrible and leaving me thinking I was losing my vision--only to go to the Sacramento office of Kaiser and learned that of course it was a cataract that was the problem.

So now I don't go to Davis, I go to Sacramento (though the doctor who used to be in Davis is now on the staff there...but I do have more options than just that doctor).

My appointment was at 11 a.m. and I left Davis at 9:30, getting there half an hour early, but I had my "gadgets" with me, so I was able to amuse myself until I was called.

My new doctor's name was Dr. Maebori and when this nice lady took me in the office, I asked how you pronounced the doctor's name.  (Apparently it's pronounced the same as Sherrif Andy Taylor's hometown).  But then she started doing an exam--having me look at the eye chart (which disappears when I try to look with my right eye), and checking my lenses, and showing me the "1 or 2?  3 or 4?" lens changes.  I began to realize that THIS was Dr. Maebori and felt kind of dumb for having assumed that she was the assistant of a different physician.  She put drops in my eyes and then finished the exam, checking for retinopathy (all clear, I was told) and then when she had finished doing just about everything that needed to be done, she announced that she would now go and get Dr. Maebori!

Dr. Maebori essentially said that yep, his assistant did it all right, he signed a prescription for new lenses (which I won't fill since there is such a slight change from the lenses I'm wearing now) and sent me on my way.  I wonder how big his salary is compared to hers!

I had decided to go out to lunch and was trying to decide where when I remembered that I was out of Sacramento postcards, which I use to send to folks through Postcrossing. I figured I would go to Old Sacramento, find some place to eat there, and pick up some post cards.

I was mentally going through restaurants I knew, or used to know, in Old Sac (since I haven't eaten there in many years).  I don't know how I forgot   the obvious choice, but there it was as I entered through the back entrance:

Of course! 

 

So I went to Joe's and had myself a fantastic crabcake caesar salad.

Afterwards I went to a candy store across the street because the sign said they sold souvenirs.  But they also had free candy tastings.  Dozens of boxes of taffy and an invitation to help yourself to samples.

If you could imagine a flavor, they had it.  Peanut butter, molasses, cranberry-raspberry, orange cream.  They even had, believe it or not, maple bacon taffy.  I had to try it.  It was weird, but oddly, not bad.  

The only reason I didn't taste more is that I had to get back to the car before the meter expired.

I might have to go back and actually buy some of that taffy.

Seeing Clearly

If you want to get your heart started with a bang, realize that you have a doctor's appointment in 30 minutes, at an office 25 miles away.

I had forgotten to put my follow-up eye appointment on the calendar and was totally involved in all the ceremonials and talking heads about signing the health care bill. While listening to Chris Matthews talking to somebody or other, I was also reading somebody's meme on line and one of the questions was "Have you ever had a headache so bad it affected your vision?"

Vision!

Eyes! Brain clicks on.

Clock! 10 a.m. and my appointment is at 10:30!

Office is in Sacramento!

Yikes!!!

I grabbed my purse, yelled at Walt to give a treat to the dogs and got into the car. I thought I'd left my cell phone behind, but didn't have time to go back for it. I raced (yes raced) down the driveway and headed to the freeway. (Later I realized that I did have my cell phone after all.)

I didn't speed, but did go the speed limit and, miraculously got to Kaiser only 7 minutes late. I thought. After they had checked me in (thank you, God!) I looked at the receipt and found out that my appointment was actually 10:50 so I was actually early.

I had forgotten to bring my iTouch, so had nothing to read, but I did have earphones with me, and I could continue listening to the book I was listaning to on my iPod in the car (James Patterson's "Alex Cross's Trial"--a very good book)

Dr. Lieu is a good optometrist. Much more thorough than the guy I've been seeing for about 20 years, the one who mis-diagnosed my cataracts a year ago and sent me into panic for about a month. I'm usually the silent patient who sits there and does what I'm told to do, but I was still emotional from watching Obama sign the Health Care bill, so I asked him what he thought of it.

He was very cautious but we discussed several points and I think we ended up with his admitting to being cautiously pessimistic and me admitting to being cautiously optimistic. When he told me to come back in a year, we decided that we'd see then what had happened in the intervening year with the Health Care bill.

As for my eyes, everything is looking good. The surgery seems to have been a success, the remaining cataract not as bad as I thought. It was a very positive appointment. Doctors' appointments should always be so positive!

He dilated my pupils and my pupils never fully dilate, so I am not really incapacitated, but things WERE very bright outside. I decided to use that as an excuse to stay in Sacramento and treat myself to lunch.

Near the medical office is a Mongolian Barbeque where we eat often, but I realized that near that place was a Red Lobster. I'm not a lobster fan, but I knew that they had...what else?...crab, of course, so I decided to treat myself to some steamed King Crab legs and they were wonderful. I like the flavor of Dungeness crab better, but King Crab has the advantage of giving you a huge bite of crab when you crack a leg...you get more without having to work as hard.

My eyes undiluted and my belly full of crab once again, I headed home, continuing to listen to the James Patterson book. It's a gripping tale about lynchings in the deep south at the turn of the century.

It was so gripping, that I came in and sat down to listen to the last 45 minutes of the book before doing anything else.

It's an interesting book about hatred to read during a time when there is such an outcry about the Health Care bill -- five bricks tossed through the windows of Democratic representatives, name calling of the representatives, that lovely "you're a baby killer!" comment yelled, ironically, at Bart Stupak. I ended the day deciding that we have not progressed very far in this advanced country of ours...and finding that very depressing.

(Does the it occur to anybody the irony of all this violence erupting over the health care bill because it is too much government interference in our lives...but nobody thinks twice about the government deciding who can get married and who can't? Government interference in the most intimate area of our lives is OK...but don't you dare try to change my health care? Or is that expecting logic from irrational human beings?)

The Perils of Pauline

It was a gorgeous spring morning. The sky was a beautiful blue, the clouds were white, shimmery and fluffy. I left the house early this morning for my final post-op appointment with the eye doctors. On the drive home I was feeling very good. My appointment with the optometrist (who was quite friendly, as opposed to the ophthalmologist, who is the great stone face) went well. He said that I really didn't need new glasses, unless I wanted to change the prescription very slightly. I told him I was happy with what I have--so I don't need to spend money on new glasses.

Then I saw the ophthalmologist, who gave me the all clear. Don't need to use the eye drops any more and he doesn't need to see me again. He shook my hand and wished me a "good life" and told me to come back to see the optometrist next year.

I will follow his advice. I've been seeing the optometrist in Davis for many, many years and like him, but after this scare, where he gave me all the wrong information, I don't trust him any more and since I liked the guy in Sacramento, I'll switch to him in the future.

It was such a glorious spring day and the blossoms were out everywhere.

I hadn't had time for breakfast before I left home so, since this is Mardi Gras, and the tradition on "fat Tuesday" is to have pancakes, I stopped at a waffle house and had a waffle (a pancake with holes in it, right?) and then started on the road home.

To get from Sacramento to Davis, you cross the Yolo Causeway, that goes over the Yolo Bypass, where all the water from Folsom Dam goes if the level of the dam ever gets too high. It's a multi-purpose area that is a bird sanctuary, a rice paddy, and, when the standing water has dried, they sometimes plant crops like corn there. It's where we watched millions of bats flying off at night to search for bugs. As you come off the causeway, there is a little-used frontage road that I used to take frequently, but hadn't taken in a long time. It runs along between the highway and the railroad tracks and is a slower paced road than the freeway. This was a slower paced day, so I decided to take it again.

With the deteriorating infrastructure in California, the wear and tear on the frontage road was much more evident than the last time I drove it. It was patched all over the place, but I didn't see any big holes until I drove into one. As I bounced out of it, I heard the unmistakable, sickening sound of a flat tire.

I pulled over to check the tire and, sure enough, it was flat as a pancake (appropriate on Pancake Tuesday).

A car pulled up alongside me and a man with a hook on the end of his arm, instead of a hand, told me that he had hit that same pothole yesterday and it blew out both his front and back tires and that he had seen another car yesterday which had the same problem.

I called AAA (NOTE TO MY MOTHER: This is why you carry a cell phone!!) and just as I had finished talking with the dispatcher, a highway patrol car pulled up. I told the officer what happened and he drove off to check the pothole. Then another highway patrol car pulled up behind me to sit there until the AAA truck arrived. Fortunately, I had a book with me, so after I'd taken photos and made a video (of course!), I sat in the car and read until the AAA truck pulled up. The guy jumped out saying "You hit the pothole, eh? You're my second car today."

By the time he was fixing the tire, I had the AAA truck parked in front of me and both Highway Patrol cars parked behind me.

One AAA truck and 2 police cars just to take care of me!

I went to ask one of the Highway Patrol offcers whom I should call to file a report. He said that it was a county road, not a city road and that he had placed a report and that they would be out within the hour to patch the hole. He also explained that the road had been patched many times and when we had heavy rains, like we did this weekend, it seeped in under the patches and caused the potholes. He said that since I was driving the speed limit, I was more prone to being caught in the hole and that when he came along here he was usually driving too fast and so he didn't get caught, but he hastened to let me know that I should continue to drive the speed limit, not drive fast in the hope of avoiding pot holes.

All in all, it was kind of a nice little adventure. Walt had told me a couple of days ago that we were going to have to replace our front tires, so it's not like we suddenly have this unexpected expense. Neither I nor the car were damaged. I got to sit by the side of the road on a lovely day and do nothing but read...and, best of all, I can read now!

Coulda been worse. Life is good.

Just Lookin' at Stuff

We went to see Theresa Rebeck's play, "The Scene" on Friday night. It's a fast-paced, hard-biting comedy that will sometimes leave you breathless with the pace of it. Tony Shaloub was in the original production and after all these years of watching Monk, it's sure hard to picture Shaloub as this drunken, sex-crazed, disillusioned actor.

The show was held at the Capital Stage, which is a theatre on the riverboat, The Delta King, which floats on the river along Old Sacramento. A fun place to visit.

It had been raining and the streets were wet. Walt pulled into the parking lot and let me out to start walking to the theatre. I started down the gangplank to the boat and looked off to my left, where the J Street Bridge was all lit up.

I felt like I was seeing it...really seeing it...for the first time.

Today we went back to Sacramento for a matinee of a play called "Gem of the Ocean" by August Wilson (intense, but excellent play) and coming home there was the most beautiful sunset. I felt like I was seeing a sunset for the first time.

"Toto, I've a feeling we aren't in Kansas any more" !!

I'm sure I'm sounding like a broken record about all this eye stuff, but it's like seeing the world for the first time in a very long time. We sat down at the dinner table the other night and I commented to Walt that I had been about to point out that even the table area was much brighter, but that I'd laughed to myself as I realized that he'd replaced one of the bulbs in the chandalier that had burned out. He looked confused and then said "Yes, but I did that three weeks ago."

So it wasn't my imagination. The room is brighter. I'm enjoying this so much that I've already started to fear losing it. If I ever need a reminder of what things were like a week ago, all I need to do is to close my now-good eye and look out of the other one to see how dull the colors are, how it looks to have part of my vision blocked by a cataract.

I see the doctor tomorrow for my final post-op and one of the questions I will be asking him is what are the chances of a cataract developing again. I don't know how many years I'd been incubating this thing, but I know it was diagnosed at least 10 years ago. It was only within the past year that it started making it difficult for me to function normally.

But for how many years had it put me in this muted world where I could see, but not truly appreciate the colors around me? I look at the photos that I post now and realize that I never really saw them before. I may still not have much depth perception but I sure can tell the difference between disappointing photos and the same photo as I look at it now.

So I am going through my days now, just "lookin' at stuff" literally with new eyes...or eye...and appreciating the beauty that I always appreciated before but now have an entirely new perspective on.

Life is good.

---

Tonight's Vignette: I cooked a turkey breast last night, so we had leftovers for dinner tonight. My stomach was feeling a little unsettled, so I opted not to have dinner, but I dished Walt a big plate of turkey, stuffing and vegetables. He sat down and then remembered that we had some leftover cranberry sauce in the fridge, so he got up to look for it (actually, I had eaten it last night). When he got back to the table, all of his turkey was gone. Lizzie had stolen it. Damn dog.

taking it for a test drive

We'll it's had a couple of days to rest and relax and it was time to take the eye out for a test drive.

The Academy Awards nominations were announced at 5:30 this morning. Since I'd been awake since 3, I was there to see it all live. It wasn't that I had insomnia. I had actually fallen asleep some time between 9 and 9:30, so by 3, I had been sleeping six hours, which is like a full night for me. So I piddled around the house doing stuff and then at 5:30 I was there for the reading of the nominations (then I fell back asleep and slept until nearly 9--unheard of for me!). The Oscar nominations echoed the Golden Globes -- Slum Dog Millionaire took 10 nominations, including best picture (it won best picture at the Golden Globes).

So when Walt asked if I wanted to go see Slum Dog Millionaire this afternoon, I jumped at the chance. It was my first chance to be out and about. On the drive home from the hospital, I was still adjusting to things, but I'm getting used to bright colors, I've found a pair of old glasses that kinda sorta work for me and the eye doesn't get as tired of seeing as it did the first day. I also wanted to stop at a store on the way home and see if I could find some of those over the counter glasses that allow you to read better. If I could find the right pair, maybe they would tide me over until I get my new lenses a month from now.

My vision is so "normal" is that I never even thought about it during the movie. Either it was because the movie was so good or I'm really getting used to the "new normal."

Go. Go and see Slum Dog Millionaire. I was prepared to like it, but in the first few minutes I wasn't sure if I was going to like it or not. But the little boys in the movie are so wonderful and engaging despite horrible situations that you can't help but be drawn in, and by the time they grow up, you're hooked on the story itself. And when it's all over, you know why it won the Golden Globe for best picture of the year. Do yourself a big favor and see it.

Of course, when we came out, I had a craving for Indian food. We did the next best thing and went to Katmandu, which is Nepalese, but curry is curry. Walt had lamb curry, I had lamb coconut and both were delicious. I even ordered a glass of wine to celebrate my return to almost-visual acuity.

I have joined the ranks of the people raving about how great cataract surgery is, and frustrated that there is no way you can demonstrate "before" and "after." I did note with great pleasure that I could look into an oncoming headlight without it giving me a headache, or without the halos completely filling my field of vision.

We went to Longs after dinner and I tried their magnifying glasses, but unfortunately even with my "improved" vision, they still don't have a strong enough pair for me. The magnification only goes up to +3.0 and I suspect I need at least +4.0. But that's OK. I can continue to use what I'm using now.

So I'm very happy!

When we got home I went to sit down at my computer and discovered that the webcam which sits on the monitor was gone. Walt had done a lot of crawling around under my desk (since I can't get down there myself) trying to organize some cords and apparently in the process had knocked the camera off.

The problem was that we couldn't find it. He didn't know what it looked like and I couldn't bend down to see if I could find it. I finally had the solution.

I turned the camera on from the keyboard and shined the flashlight around and voila! We found it right away.

---

There is great news about Nicki. She's gone two whole days without an accident at Ashley's house. She's spent a lot of time in her cage, but it's working. She also finally learned about cheese and will take it out of Ashley's hands as a reward. At the same time not one, but two families, one in So. California and one in Oregon, are interested in her. Maybe it's finally Nicki's turn for a forever home--and maybe she's learned enough that a placement will be a success. Hold the good thought!

We're No Fakes

After my pre-op appointment today, the doctor told me to go to the pharmacy and pick up the eye drops he had ordered for me. I will be putting them in my eye starting on Sunday and continuing until the bottle is empty, about a week after the surgery.

We went downstairs and found the pharmacy and dutifully checked the board where they post the names of the patients whose prescriptions are ready to be picked up. My name wasn't there yet, but there was a B.Fakes. Well, people do weird things to our name and I wondered if the med tech had somehow typed in the wrong name or if someone in the pharmacy had typed in the wrong name.

They say that if your name hasn't appeared for 20 minutes, to go to the counter and ask. So we sat and waited. After 20 minutes there was still no "sykes" on the board, but B. Fakes was still there. I stood in line for another 5 minutes or so and finally got to a window where I said that my name wasn't there and I wondered if it had been mis-typed.

Well, no, it hadn't. But the doctor's office had phoned in the prescription yesterday, so it was there all along and my name would never have appeared on the board. Sigh.

Yes, the next time I see the doctor will be at surgery. I guess I'm more axious than I realize because my blood pressure when they first took it was 175/115, which is higher than it's ever been. It came down to closer to normal after about five minutes, but still higher than it should have been.

I will be so glad to get this over with. I asked the med tech what was the "worst possible scenario" and he said (which didn't surprise me) "blindness." Yes, I know that this is a simple surgery...but Gilbert died from a "simple surgery," so I wanted to know all the possibilities.

The first thing I asked was about bending over. I thought I had heard or read somewhere that I shouldn't be bending over. And yes, I was correct. I should not bend over from the waist for the first week, because of the rush of blood to the head after you stand up again being a potential for causing the stitches to tear. So I've had to ask Ashley to move Nicki and the puppies. I am thinking that it will probably be a permanent move for the puppies, but I'd be willing to take them back, if nobody wants to keep them. But I'm suspecting nobody is going to want to keep Nicki, and we'll take her back if that's the case.

The other thing is that when I saw him to schedule the surgery, he had told me I'd have an eye patch to wear at night after the surgery to prevent me from rubbing my eye, but it turns out he will have me wear the patch from after the surgery until my post-op the next day (and nighttime after that until stitches heal).

Now, for normal people this would be a minor inconvenience, but for me it's going to render me all but blind. The non-surgical eye is the one I don't use for vision. I can see out of it but 1/2 to 2/3 of the eye is covered by a cataract I can't see through at all. The portion of he eye that I CAN see with has vision that I can use to maneuver around the house, but I can't read with it, for example, so -- pay attention, Ron --

THERE WILL BE NO JOURNAL ENTRY FOR JANUARY 21

With luck, I will be back on line on the 22nd and I will have Walt put a note in the guestbook for January 20 to let people know how it all went. But unless things are different than I think they are going to be, use of the computer is going to be just about impossible for me while one eye is covered.

Besides, when I tell the story of How It Went, I want to be able to write it, not spend half my time squinting through a high powered magnifying lass to see a couple of letters out of one corner of my "bad" eye!

Blind as a Bat

I was unwittingly very rude the other day. It was the day I went to see Australia with my friend Jessica. We were coming out of the parking lot and two people were walking toward us. Naturally in the light of outside I couldn't see either person's face. Jessica made some sort of greeting to the woman and the woman walked on. I thought she looked somewhat familiar but, as I said, I couldn't see her face at all, but figured she was an acquaintance of Jessica's. Jessica turned to me and said "That woman acted like she knew you."

Instantly I knew who it was ...or thought I knew who it was--a woman from Walt's office. But the moment was passed and I didn't remember her name anyway, so I couldn't turn around and call her. But I came home and described her to Walt and when he was next in his office he asked her if I has "snubbed her" and she said I had.

He explained about my problem and she understood, of course.

There are times when being half blind is a good thing. Today we went to the Farmer's Market. There are lots of craftspeople displaying their wares, hoping to snag some sales for Christmas, but of course I can't see them without looking closely, so I am not tempted by something catching my eye as we walk past.

Ashley had asked us to bring Nicki to the market because there was a woman who has adopted other special needs dogs she and was interested in Nicki, so we were dropping her off before Walt took me to my hair appointment. I got all teary at the thought that this might be the last time I'd see Nicki, but ultimately the woman thought she was too big and didn't take her. Ashley says she still might be "talked into it" but I want somebody who is going to fall in love with Nicki for herself, not be talked into it! How could you not fall in love with this little girl?

Walt dropped me off at the Y2K Nail and Hair Salon. I usually have my hair cut at whichever cheap place I happen to be near. But the last time the haircut was so bad, I wanted Robbie again. Robbie first cut my hair at one of those cheap hair cutting place (or I never would have known about him). You can't not notice him. Not only does he look like Hagrid from Harry Potter, but since Hagrid was played by actor Robbie Coltrane and this guy's name is "Robbie," it was hard to convince little kids that this wasn't the "real" Hagrid.

Robbie was fired from the place where he first cut my hair and moved to another place. He cut my hair just before I left for Australia. Then I had my hair cut again in Australia and after that I learned that Robbie had moved on again, so I went back to the cheap places.

The last time I had it cut it was horrible. The woman was delightful. And seemed very, very thorough (i.e., she took longer to wash and cut my hair than anybody in a long time). And while cutting my hair she talked about the special skill needed to cut curly hair. I expected I was getting a top notch job. And, of course, I'm half blind, so I couldn't really see what it looked like when she finished, except it seemed longer than I'd asked for. But I'm a wimp. I never make waves.

When I got home I could see that it was a horrible haircut and though I had asked her to take off about an inch and a half, if she cut 1/8" I would be very surprised. I struggled with finding Robbie or trying another cheap place and I finally decided I would pay the big bucks and go back to Robbie. He cuts Ellen & Shelly's hair and they told me where he's working now. As he started working on my hair he asked "who cut your hair last time? This is a terrible job." I told him that was why I was back in his chair.

I am happy with how it turned out...

I had told Walt I would call him when I was finished and so I did, but he didn't answer his phone, so I left a message saying I would be walking toward the park where the dogs were.

That was a good and a bad thing. I passed by a baby shop I didn't know was there and naturally I went in. And I bought more stuff for Bri, including my very favorite gift for her period. If I find out someone else has already found it and given it to her I'm going to be sooooo disappointed. It is absolutely the perfect gift, for something that isn't stamped with any 49er logo.

When I got back to the park, Ashley told me that Nicki had not been adopted and that Walt had gone home about 15 minutes before. I called him on his cell phone and the house phone again and still no answer on either, so I sat and waited awhile and then called home again and he answered. He said he would be down to pick me up.

I bought some kettle corn because I was hungry and because I'm always tempted to buy kettle corn and never do, and I stood in the street eating my kettle corn and waiting for Walt when someone across the street waved at me and said something like "I see you eating your popcorn." Naturally I didn't have a clue who she was (she reads this--so I apologize!) until she came all the way across the street when I could see her again. We talked a bit and wished each other a Merry Christmas.

I'm now wondering how many other people I have passed by without greeting them because I just don't see them! January can't get here soon enough.

Oh--and we came home with another dog. This one is Twix, who is about Nicki's age, and Sheila's size. Ashley asked if we could keep her for a couple of days and that she would take care of her after we leave for Santa Barbara on Tuesday. So far all the dogs seem to be getting along all right.

And Nicki is VERY happy to be "home" again. She really, really, really hates (a) being on a leash, and (b) being out in the park with other dogs.