For me, the past couple of weeks were humbling. It hurt to see Dad suffer, but for quite awhile, we didn’t know from what. Then, when we did know, I was terrrified. In my line of work, the diagnosis is most often fatal, and quickly so. Monday, the 19th, as we waited for confirmation and direction, I was at a loss as to what to do, to feel, to say. I was angry that we had to wait in the doctor’s office, that we had to fill out paperwork before admission to the hospital. I just wanted Dad cared for. Then, finally, he was hooked to the life-saving I-V. The hospital gave comfort, and assurance that they were doing the right things at the right time – we had to trust them, and the doctors. The numbers never quite reached the optimum, but Dad was released, to continue treatment and improvement at home. He returned to work today, but he looks very tired, his numbers are still not there yet. Tonight he will increase the already high dosage. It seems there are a lot of questions still unanswered, a lot to learn.
Good sight is definitely something I have taken for granted. I had 20/20 vision for the longest time, not needing glasses till my 40’s. Then bifocals were prescribed – that was 1999 I remember – just before we headed to Finland, and I worried about missing a step and falling down the stairs somewhere far-off. I did some stupid things in Finland, but didn’t fall down any stairs.
About 2 and a half years ago, the optometrist told me I had a small cataract, nothing to worry about – “it might be 15 years before you need it removed”. A year later I told him that I had been noticing it, a slight blurring that bugged me mostly when I was reading.
Another year went by, and it was starting to interfere with my activities – cross-stitch was the first to go – I couldn’t focus on the tiny squares. Reading was bothersome, so I gave it up recreationally, and concentrated on the newspaper and magazines. The computer screen was becoming the enemy – glaring at me, and scattering its light all over my retina. I had decided to take up birding after a visit to Cornell Lab of Ornithology (that was the fall of 2005), but I quickly became a one-eyed birder, keeping my left eye shut tight at the binoculars so I could see clearly. Dad was quite patient with me, guiding my shoulders toward a sighted bird, and describing its exact location so I could find it. I was not going to give it up!
This past December, I made another visit to the optometrist, ready to plead with him to recommend surgery. It had become a little frightening to drive in bright sun, or at night. I struggled through a granny-square afghan, hoping I was piecing it together correctly, because I really couldn’t see. I had also begun bumping into things, and people, that came up on my left side. I somehow had to convince him the time was right.
He agreed. Before I even pled my case, he said the cataract was far advanced, and I had better see the opthamologist about removal. I was elated, because I knew that it was only getting worse.
The M.D. saw me in January, and proclaimed that I would be blind in my left eye by spring if he didn’t operate. The cloudy lens will be removed through a surgical incision, and replaced with a permanent implant. A mild sedative will see me through, with a local anesthetic to numb my eye. I went last week and had my eye measured by ultrasound for an intraocular lens. Now it is 3 weeks till surgery. My vision has deteriorated further in the past week. I am ready……
Bitter cold, the temperatures are in the single digits, the windchill below zero. Time to make suet cakes! Dad cuts up the suet that he bought at the meat counter, melts it down, and adds the liquid fat to my seed mix. ( Martha gets the crispy leftovers). Peanut butter and dried fruit get added in, then Dad presses the mixture into plastic tubs which we put into the freezer till set.
I head out just before sunset and put out two of the new cakes – one in a suet cage to hang from the willow, and a smaller cake wrapped in a mesh onion bag to hang on the deck. The little hanging hooks get caught in my knit gloves, and it’s a struggle, with the cold and the wind, and that obstacle, but one downy comes promptly to make the effort worthwhile.
Today’s birdcount: 16 house finch, 1 American goldfinch, 3 downy woodpecker, 9 house sparrow, 3 dark-eyed junco, 4 European starling, 2 mourning dove, 2 American crow, 2 black-capped chickadee, 2 northern cardinal, and 1 northern mockingbird.
