Cataracts Part 2

Eye is from a pastel picture Barb

did of me a few years ago!

Today I had what is called a pre-op appointment regarding my up-coming cataract operation.  I first had to sign a sheet informing me what will happen on the day of the operation.  One paragraph was scary, listing all the things that could go wrong. Bleeding, infection, loss of corneal clarity, swelling of the macula, glaucoma, retinal detachment, droopy eyelid, double vision, prolonged inflammation and pupil abnormalities.  My question was, what is the percentage of successful operations and was told it is around 98% so that made me feel better. I hope I am not in the 2%! I paid careful attention to the doctor's hands to make sure she didn't have shaky hands.  She didn't.

There are eye drops that I will begin taking three days before surgery and then continue for six weeks after surgery. The names of the drugs mean nothing to me:  Diciofenac, Zymaxid and Prenisolone.    I looked the drugs up on the Internet but did not find anything relating to the drugs and cataracts. Maybe the old saying of "what you don't know doesn't hurt you" is true!  One drug, I believe, is for inflammation, but I am not sure about the other two medications.

I was told that after surgery there may be a mild aching sensation, a feeling as if there is something in my eye, or a tearing (not ripping, but tears) or draining under the patch. The main instructions, other than the medication, was not to bend over so that my head drops below my waist and not to lift anything weighing over twenty pounds.

My surgery will be at 10:30 a.m. and I need to arrive at the hospital at nine in the morning.  Hopefully, by next month, I will have better eye sight and I can begin to prepare for the surgery on my right eye!

My Pretend Vacation

After writing about the movie, The Way, and seeing travelers walking the Road to Santiago, I was filled with an urge to go to Spain and complete the walk.  I checked tour companies and found out dates and prices. Then, I realized that on a 4.6 mile walk near Estes, I wrecked my big toe and for six months have had a black toe nail. I could just imagine walking 500 miles!  Besides, my knees ache,  my back hurts and I'm on a fixed income.  All reasons why I should stay home!

In order to get the wanderlust out of my system I drove to Golden, Colorado.  Three weeks ago, I had been in Golden for the Buffalo Bill Days and had noticed many bronze sculptures. At the time, a thought fleetingly passed my mind that I would like to return to look at the sculptures more closely.

This morning, I played a tourist visiting Golden (about 12 miles away) and saw the sculptures, checked out novelty stores, saw a few cowboy bars, found a vegan restaurant, a hotel, the river, a bridge, a bread and breakfast, a bicycle shop, a boat store, a hay store, murals, bought water at Safeway, passed Coors Brewery and enjoyed the summer like day.  It was a pleasant walk with no pain! Below are my photos of my pretend vacation!

A 14' sculpture of Buffalo Bill Cody and his daughter welcome visitors to Golden.


A newspaper boy selling
the The Transcript.


                     Large sign over the main street.
Below, a Native American woman with Squash Blossom necklace.  A boy helping a girl get on a horse.  A sleeping bear. A dragon.  A young cowboy. A  huge bear.  A cowboy. A gold miner. A buffalo. An Indian chief.  The beautiful artwork is scattered along the main street of Washington Avenue.
              

                                                

Western novelty store with neat items.

Large murals on building walls.

Loved these bicycle stands where you can

leave your bike.

Clear Creek runs on the north side of Golden and there are places to sit and enjoy the view. Looking south-east, Table Mountain Mesa can be seen from most areas of Golden.

 To complete my pretend vacation, I purchased a souvenir and it has helped to calm my wandering spirit.

Cataracts

The eye is the jewel of the body.

Henry David Thoreau

A bright light, air puffed into my eye and now I am asked what letters I can see on the eye chart.  "None," I say.  The doctor flips some lenses to the largest letters and those I can see though they appear a bit hazy. I blink and squint to see if I can clear up the letters. More clicks as the doctor raises the power of the lenses. What has happened to my eye sight?

"You know that you won't pass your driver's license test," she says, "you have cataracts." After explaining that a cataract is a clouding that develops on the eye lens, light not focusing on the retina, and how this will cause loss of vision, she wanted to schedule an appointment as soon as possible.  I hesitated.  Maybe, she was wrong.  I would get a second opinion.  A stronger prescription might correct my eyesight.

Four months later, I knew stronger lenses would not help.  Even though night driving had been a problem for me now I noticed it was worse.  Lights that had been blurry before now were fuzzier. Signs were impossible to read.  I practically had to be on top of a sign to see it. I realized I was doing "memory" driving by relying on what I remembered in the past. In church, I no longer could read the large cue board hanging on the opposite wall.  Not too long ago, I could close one eye and see the words with my my good eye.  Now, neither eye could make out the words. Writing scrolling on the bottom of a television program could no longer be read.  Entering a store became difficult to see items unless I was fairly close. I relied on seeing familiar shapes or colors. 

Mornings appear to be worse because I have problems focusing through blurry eyes. It seems as if my eyes get better as the day progresses. I have never worn glasses while at the computer or reading  and that has not changed.  Distance is my problem. "How do you drive?" I was asked by friends when I told them about my cataracts.  "If it's big, I'll see it," is my response.  I notice I squint more.

Another appointment, another round of tests, and again I was told I should get the dreaded cataract operation. The procedure was set for the end of March and everyone who has had it done tells me, "Nothing to it."Takes about fifteen minutes."  "Piece of cake." "No problems."  "Can see better than ever." I am not looking forward to having the cataracts removed, but the comments make me feel better.

A booklet, Understanding Cataracts, proved to be helpful in understanding what I would be going through. Incision in the eye, removal of the lens, insertion of artificial lens, eye drops and then I should have better eyesight. Sounded simple enough. That takes care of my left eye and after a month the right eye will go through the same procedure. The question is:  Will I really see better?

Originality is simply a pair of fresh eyes.                          Truly light is sweet, and a pleasant
Thomas W. Higginson                                                              thing  is for the eyes to behold the sun.
                                                                                                                           Book of Ecclesiastes

Santiago de Compostela

Emilio Estevez wrote and directed The Way. In the film his father, Martin Sheen, portrays an American man who goes to France to recover his son's body. Looking through his son's belongings he realizes his son had planned to walk the Road of St. James (El Camino de Santiago) and decides to travel the road with his son's ashes. The movie is filmed on the actual road beginning in France and ending in Spain. It is a beautiful story that unfolds as he meets other pilgrims and stops at hostels, known as albergues or refugios. The movie is entertaining, inspirational, grabs at your heart, and interesting.  I read in The Road to Santiago written by Ana Martin that the first pilgrimage occured in the year 950 by French Bishop Gottschalk. Pilgrims come from all over the world to Santiago where it is said that St. James' remains are buried. At one time it used to be a religious pilgrimage, but now it is more of a tourist attraction and can be done by bicycle, horseback  or walking

In 2007 I spent time in Santiago and was impressed by the huge Cathedral and the large square (plaza)surrounded by historical buildings.

Museo y Tesoro de la Catedral

Plaza de Obraidoiro.

The building used to be a

hostel for pilgrims but is now a hotel.

The cathedral photo is from a travel book because there was no way I could get the whole facade.  Photographs are not allowed to be taken inside the Cathedral so I was not able to photograph  St. James, the Apostle, on the main altar or the beautiful side altars. Pilgrims are allowed to go behind the main altar, up a few steps, and touch or embrace the gold cape of St. James.

An amazing sight was the gigantic incense burner that is on a pulley.  In order to get the botafumeiro to swing above the heads of the pilgrims, it takes eight men pulling on ropes.

A huge pulley used to swing

the giant incense burner.

St. James, the Moor Slayer,

graces the tops of many of the buildings in Santiago.

I saw carved pillars, statues, art work, side altars, and lots of gold filigree as I wandered through the huge cathedral. It was interesting to sit and watch the pilgrims arriving at their final destination with backpacks and hiking boots. Some pilgrims looked clean while others looked dusty and dirty. Most looked tired. Many touched the stone pillar of  St. James at the entrance of the Cathedral in thanksgiving of a safe pilgrimage.

The pillar that is touched by

pilgrims as they enter the Cathedral.



 At the end of the journey, if the pilgrims have gotten their special passport stamped along the way, they are given a certificate showing they completed the pilgrimage.

To guide the travelers, the road is marked with actual scallop shells or pictures of the shells. There are several stories as to what the shell means.  The tale I like is that the shell represents a pilgrim and the grooves on a scallop shell end up in one spot, just like the Pilgrims who will end up in Santiago.

 

The Way stirred the vagabond feeling in me and made me wish I was in my twenties so that I could  travel the road to Santiago de Compostela.

Shopping in Santiago de Compostela

Welcome Home

The plane arrived at the Anchorage Alaska airport after one in the morning. I needed to find a cab, I was tired and a bit nervous because of our late arrival, and I did not know if the hotel would still be holding my room reservation. The airport was deserted, shops were closed, and there was an eerie silence until I rounded a corner and saw bright lights and hundreds of persons.  Did they greet all passengers with t.v. cameras, balloons, banners, flags and music?

I asked a security guard what was happening.  "Our boys are returning from Iraq today!"  I decided to stay and watch. I saw homemade banners with "Welcome Home,  My Daddy,"  "Love you!"  "Waiting for you, Honey."  Somewhere, on another level I could hear a band played America the Beautiful.  Everyone looked down the empty hallway. Excited people talked and stretched to look down the long hall hoping to be the first to see their loved one.

"Here they come," someone yelled. I saw the soldiers, not in uniform, but in casual clothing coming at a fast walk. A little girl ran under the rope and into her Dad's arms.  From then on, all I saw were hugs, kisses, flowers handed over, balloons tangled above people's heads, flags waving and cries of joy. I could not hold back my tears and cried right along with all the beautiful families. I enjoyed watching as everyone seemed to cling to each other.  One woman was lifted and twirled. Children would not let go of their Dads.  Women kissed husbands or boyfriends. T.V. cameras photographed the loving actions of those returning and those waiting for them!

I left the wonderful sight behind me as I looked for a taxi to take me to the hotel at 3:30 in the morning. What an exhilarating feeling to know that I, on my first visit to Alaska, helped welcome home a group of men and women from their overseas tour.

Today, I saw Act of Valor and came out of the movie with mixed emotions.  I felt proud that soldiers fight to keep us free by risking their own lives, scared that danger can befall us just like 9/11, happy that the majority of the soldiers in the movie made it home, and sad that we live in a world so full of danger. The movie is about Navy Seals rescuing a tortured and bloody agent, spying on drug deals, and intercepting Jihad wearing exploding vests from entering the United States. It is a fast moving action film with a lot of noisy shooting and shouting.  I knew it was a movie, shot with real Seals, but I wanted a fairy tale ending with all the soldiers making it home, a world at peace and with a,  "and they lived happily ever after" ending!

The movie brought back memories of those soldiers who returned home the night I arrived in Anchorage. Brave men and women who keep us safe and sound.  I salute those men and women and every night I will say a prayer for those serving our country!

Yellow Bloom

Today, the snow has completely melted and I noticed this lone yellow crocus in my yard.  Seeing it blooming gave me a wonderful feeling that maybe spring was getting ready to show its face.  March is known to be the snowiest month in Colorado but the splash of yellow cheered me up as I realized that spring might arrive next month.

It also reminded me of my granddaughter who loved flowers.  As a tiny toddler, she would gravitate to flowers and it didn't matter what color or if they were blooms from weeds, she loved them. With gentle fingers, she would caress any flower that she happened to see.  In her own language, which no one could understand, she would talk to the flowers.

One time when she was coming to visit me from California, I wrote Grandmother's Garden for her.

Grandmother's Garden

The grandmother,

knowing how much the baby loved flowers,

decided to plant a garden for the tiny child.

Bending her arthritic knees

 to the ground.

she dug into the clay dirt.

Petunias, pansies, geraniums

and those little flowers that

were guaranteed to

spread like a carpet of blue,

were placed into the spaded earth.

Daily, the Grandmother nurtured the garden.

She whispered to the plants, watered

and knew, deep in her heart,

that when her granddaughter

arrived, she would love

the rainbow of colors.

It made her happy knowing how her

granddaughter would love

the flowers.

Suddenly,

a heat wave like there had never been before,

caused the tiny plants to gasp for life.

How they struggled to live.

Many died as they shriveled,

turned brown,

and gave up their fight to survive.

A few, continued to

dig their roots,

drank thirstily when they could

and tried to bloom.

On the day the granddaughter arrived,

The Grandmother, who had wanted the

baby to be greeted by color

knew the garden would

not please the child. 

The little girl

got out of the car

ran straight to a lone flower

that had survived.

She knelt beside it,

talked to it,

admired the yellow bloom

and turning to her Grandmother,

smiled.

E. Moscoso

June 30, 1998

. 

Do You Know What You Want?

Sweet Little Bird

Out of the blue

the hand grasped

the innocent creature.

Desperately

she fluttered her wings,

her heart rapidly beating,

her cries so loud,

as she frantically tried to escape.

Firmly, but gently,

the hand held the shaking body.

Caressing the frightened bird.

Trying to calm the quaking one.

Whispering soft words.

"I love you.

I would never hurt you

sweet little bird.

Listen to my word,

sweet little bird,

I love you."

She could not hear,

she would not feel,

she longed for the freedom

that had once been hers.

Daily, he fed the little bird.

Rubbing its resisting body,

stroking its fighting spirit,

touching the smooth feathers.

One day, the hand opened.

The bird

smelled the freshness,

the openness,

the contentment of being

free and she flew away.

What she wanted so badly

was now hers to enjoy.

Up, up, up, and away she flew.

Her heart trying to sing,

her eyes wanting to see,

her wings attempting to fly.

But,

she missed the warm hand,

the gentle touch,

the soft words,

the love.

Returning, she flew into his heart.

She knew what she had looked

for in the past,

she had finally found,

at last.

E. Moscoso

April 11, 1990