Depression: Absent.
Anxiety: Definitely warranted.
Tears: Dribbly ones.
Laughs: Yep.
Well Baggees, it seemed appropriate to update you all on Baggy's cataract surgery, which she had yesterday. As you regulars know, both Hormonal Hannah and Freda Fretter were more than a little worried about it! It would have been a little surprising if they hadn't been, but as someone who suffers from anxiety, it was inevitable. Also, for those of you fortunate folk who do not, and have never suffered from anxiety, it might be useful of Clever Bird to explain something:
Yes - anxiety is merely in your head, and, Yes - it is frequently irrational.
However, knowing that, and being able to do anything about it are two entirely different things. Now, in the case of surgery a) worrying about it is not irrational and b) being told by all-and-sundry, that cataract surgery is 'no big deal', 'loads of people have it', 'you'll wonder afterwards what on earth you were worrying about', 'just relax', 'it'll be fine' etc - supportive and well-meaning as that is undoubtedly meant to be, is not at all helpful to someone who suffers from anxiety. It just makes them feel more distressed, because they feel that they cannot voice their anxiety, because clearly it must be silly.
In Baggy's case, add in the fact that she has a 'thing' about anyone going near her eyes, and frankly she was terrified! The appointment wasn't until 12.30 and Ipswich Hospital is an hour away, but Hannah insisted on setting off at 10.00. Baggy's lovely sister arrived before 10.00 to look after Pepper Pooch, at which point Baggy took her first Diazepam in an attempt to get Hannah to stop freaking out. A second pill was popped with a toastie and a cappuccino, while they waited at the hospital café for 12.30 to arrive; but Hannah was still scared. Number one furry was wonderfully supportive, and constantly making Baggy laugh to distract her, but it didn't really help a lot.
In they went to the Ophthalmology Day Unit, (the first to arrive), and Calum had to leave Baggy. Shortly, another six or so patients arrived, as there were two theatres in action. Baggy probably brought the average age down by ten years! The staff were amazing with Baggy. But none of the other women was at all bothered about the surgery, which just made Hannah feel even worse and more ridiculous for being a tearful, terrified, shaky mess! Clever Bird had a word with her nurse,
'You know I've had Diazepam as I'm so scared.'
'Yes.'
'Well, do you think I could take another?'
'How much have you had?'
'10mg'.
'Urrrm, no!'
'Oh! But it says to take up to 20mg pre-operation.'
'You'd be comatosed!'
'Ooooo, perfect!'
'The most people usually take is 5mg.'
'So I can't?'
'Best not.'
The consultant came to see Baggy and drew an arrow above her left eye. He was great, and very understanding of Hannah's fear. He also said, 'Of course, it's unlikely that you'll see any improvement in your vision as you have a lazy eye, but at least the blur will have gone.'
By the time Baggy was in her wheel-chair, having had about twenty drops in her eye, she was shaking. The wheel-chair was cleverly made into the operating table, via a button. The theatre nurse had to demonstrate how this worked to a trainee, so Baggy went up-and-down, up-and-down, while he figured it out. Freda Fretter piped up, 'Do you think we could just do this, and forget the surgery?'
The consultant explained everything, as he put a little tent over Baggy's head, and stuck part of it around her eye, before cutting a hole in it. Then the nightmare began. The more he explained what he was doing, the more Hannah wished that he would shut up, and just get on with it!
Suffice to say, that the twenty minutes or so that the surgery took, felt like two hours to Hannah. Creative Clara will not go into details, as some of you are undoubtedly waiting for the same surgery, but let's just say that Baggy was gripping her left hand so hard with her right one, that at one point she thought that she'd broken her finger. A few times, the pressure on her eye made her physically flinch away from it, which of course made her worry even more that she would make the surgeon 'hit' the wrong bit. But as you are not allowed to speak......
Anyway, as soon as it was over, Hannah found herself desperately trying not to cry, in case it caused damage! She remembered to thank the consultant, then was wheeled back out. Baggy's nurse was waiting for her, in a room full of other patients. She took one look at Baggy's face, and said, 'Bless you, I'll get you a cup of tea.'
As she plopped it, and some custard creams in front of Baggy, she asked, 'So how was it?' Clever Bird didn't want to answer in front of the ladies waiting to go in, so she said, very quietly,
'Well, put it this way, I wish I'd said 'yes' to a general anaesthetic, and thank goodness I only had the one cataract!'
At that point, Calum arrived, much to Baggy's joy, and she relaxed enough to listen to another lady who had just had her surgery, telling the lady next to her,
'Oh, it was nothing. You don't need to worry.'
The sunlight was blinding, as Baggy walked out looking like a space-monkey with her dilated pupil. The car headlights were creating rainbows above the car roofs. The colours of the flowers were amazing. Even through the plastic eye-protector Baggy realised that her vision from that eye had improved dramatically.
Today, after a good night's sleep, Baggy got up feeling very peculiar - please don't say 'so what's new?' Baggees! Apart from shaking like a leaf, she felt extremely drunk. Some of this might be the after effects of the Diazepam but Clever Bird knows that not all of it is! She can only describe it as a feeling of vertigo. Baggy can only safely get around if she holds onto walls or furniture, as the floor is constantly moving underneath her! It is most disconcerting. There is no mention of such a reaction in the post-operative notes.
Clever Bird looked on t'internet for the definition of a lazy eye. Then wished that she hadn't. As lazy eye is a neurological thing, in theory, the new lens in Baggy's eye is irrelevant; hence the consultant's statement. However, with hindsight, Clever Bird should have known that she did not have a lazy eye! Nine or so years ago, after a five day stay in hospital with concussion and a suspected broken neck (thanks to Grotty Groom being thrown from Wessles), she saw an ophthalmic consultant due to her severe double-vision. Baggy was told at that time that she had a very clever brain, that switched her vision from her left to her right eye and back, depending on which eye was best for the distance that it was focussing on.
For the last few years, Baggy's left eye has been worse than useless, so her brain has been purely right eye focussed! Now Baggy's left eye seems to be better than her right! And her brain has gone into meltdown! As long as she's sitting down she's fine. Stand up, and she sways like a reed in the wind! Calum has made Clever Bird call the hospital this morning as Freda is getting in a state about it, the nurse wasn't too sure whether Baggy should be concerned or not so is going to speak to a doctor, but she seemed hopeful that Baggy's brain will adjust and figure it out. If she's still wandering around like a sailor who's been on a ship for the previous three months, and is now on firm ground, than she must call again tomorrow, but even Freda is optimistic that Clever Bird's super-brain will get it sussed and relearn to deal with perspective.......
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