Jackson Browne: Doctor My Eyes
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One more quick post on this theme.
Another crappy thing that happened this year, totally unrelated to the COVID pandemic, was that I had eye surgery, and it hasn’t really gotten better yet.
In November, 2019, I stopped a very hard soccer shot by a very good player from very close range with my left eye. Being the weekend warrior that I am, I shook it off, because, really, I felt fine. That my contact lens was dislodged, and could not be found on the turf field, didn’t faze me, and I finished the game.
Months later, as the coronavirus became a thing, I started seeing flashes in my eye, which I ignored. Because sometimes, I can be an idiot, and the world was going crazy. Then, one day, at the end of April, the vision in my left eye was partially obscured. I quickly went to my eye doctor, who, after a brief examination, hustled me off to a retinal specialist, who diagnosed a retinal detachment and started treatment by putting a bubble of gas in my eye. That was followed by lasers to tack down the retina. Unfortunately, I then developed a macular hole, which required surgery, followed by a period where I had to stay face down as much as possible, facilitated by what looked like a massage chair, and a similar headpiece for bed to allow me to "sleep" face down. It sucked. That’s me, right after the surgery. You don’t want to see what’s under the bandage. So, "No Thanks," eye surgery.
My vision remains imperfect. Not only is it slightly distorted (although it appears to be healing, but verrrrrry slowly), the surgery has caused or accelerated the development of a cataract in the eye, making my vision blurry. Despite some souped up glasses, things are not back to normal, although I can do pretty much everything except read really small print on the TV screen. I’m even playing soccer again, with goggles, and a “no heading” policy. I’m back to the retinal doctor on Friday for another report, and some guidance as to when I might be able to arrange to have the cataract removed, to bring me closer to my pre-damage vision.
I know that Kkafa wrote about this song in February, 2019, but it seemed like the right one. It’s a good song—probably the first Jackson Browne song I heard (I think back in my sleep away camp radio days), and still probably my favorite. It isn’t about eye surgery, but instead about a man who has suffered, but comes to accept his fate. So, maybe it works for my situation, anyway. It also features David Crosby and Graham Nash on harmony.
One positive thing was that because of COVID, most doctors and hospitals only took emergency cases, and I qualified, so I probably got treated a little faster than I might have had there been no pandemic. And I got a COVID test—which was negative, not that that means anything now.
