Bionic Me
20/20. The new eye rocks. Well, technically, the new lens rocks. It’s the same old eye, the lens is new. It even comes with its own spec sheet if I need to explain to someone what I’ve got. I think I should have gone for the heads-up display. That would have been nice. No more peering at my phone, just a distracted look up as I read a message or followed driving instructions. Maybe someday.
The big thing is no more glasses except to read. I have some blank ones to wear for the next several weeks to protect the eye. I do believe I owe myself a pair of nice sunglasses. Wraparounds. Mysterious. Wear them outside to work, to drive, to play golf, to socialize. Red River comes to mind, and Marathon. Outdoor wear. Perhaps in more than one color to match my ensemble. And I have them, ensembles. A gift from my wife. The idea my shirts and shorts or pants should match. Somewhat. I try with varying degrees of success.
Apparently, it takes nearly a month for the surgery to fully heal, at least that’s how long I have to put drops into my eye. Four a day, then three a day, then two, then one, then I’m done. My eye and lens will be part of me, and my brain will stop looking at it and going, do you know this is here? Why yes, I do. I ordered it. As with the right eye, it will submit and stop telling me about it, and we’ll all be happy and the world will be big and bright. And I will sing, I can see clearly now.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale