A Beautiful Surgery

2013-11-04_17-07-07_496I am just brimming with excitement these past few days—I can see again! Yes, out of only one eye at the moment, but oh my goodness, I can SEE!

This is Day Three after my first cataract surgery, and vision out of that eye is better than it has been in decades.

It’s not just being able to see again that’s amazing. It’s also how different this experience of surgery was for me, compared to previous surgeries, and all the wonderful things that happened on that day.

A lot of it can’t be captured with words, but I’ll try. The notes for this piece were recorded the evening after the surgery, when they were still fresh in my mind. The main thing about the day was the quality of the experience: There was so much kindness, so much comfort! And even some most unexpected beauty!

The morning of the surgery, I was finally nervous. Somehow, during the six or eight weeks leading up to this day, I had successfully relaxed into the sense that everything would be just fine—this was my sense from the very beginning, and I just didn’t allow myself to get into any dark or worrisome place about it. Not sure how I did it—I certainly have never accomplished that before! But it was a huge benefit, for sure.

On the drive to the hospital, I could sense the presence of my Guides and lots of family members—and especially my dad. That was unexpected! Dad and I have always had a difficult relationship, though it’s become better since he passed on. But that morning he was right there with me. Without thinking, I put on one of his neck scarves under my coat.

Once I realized he was there, I wondered why. His answer came immediately, before I had even formed the question: I was always there for him, in his late years, when he was ill and needed me. Wow…. That brought tears! But it also brought something even more wonderful: I suddenly felt like a little girl again, reaching up to Daddy for safety comfort. Interesting…. While that might have been true when I was very small, it isn’t true in any actual memory I possess. But there it was, there he was: Daddy! I can’t begin to express my surprise, and my gratitude.

And it occurs to me now that Dad had another gift for me: He may have helped me with that trusting attitude. Dad was never worried about medical procedures—he had complete faith in the competence of his doctors. The family always remarked on that; and this time, I got to experience it.

Wow.

Getting registered and set up in the Surgery Center—the usual details, the usual inconveniences…but the people were all friendly and kind, and the blankets were warm, at least at first. Half an hour or so later, I asked for another blanket—and the nurse plugged in a “warmer,” which turned out to be a machine that somehow plugged into a connector in the special new-style hospital gown and blew warm air between its separate layers.

Oh my goodness. I was surrounded by warmth! It’s hard to describe the sudden feeling of more-than-physical comfort that enveloped me. Between that and the sense of my dad’s presence, I fell instantly asleep. Imagine that! The surgeon later told me that when she’d come by to check in with me before surgery, I was sound asleep, so she didn’t disturb me.

And dreams? I was floating, peaceful, surrounded and supported by clouds and the wings of angels. Seriously. And I hadn’t even had any drugs yet, as far as I know…or if I did have some, I want more of whatever they were!

And the surgery itself? I admit to having some qualms about that, since I knew I’d be more or less awake. And some of my friends had reported seeing what they called a “light show” during the procedure, which sounded unnerving.

But far from being jarring or frightening, it was amazingly beautiful! Quite unexpected—the colors and the images reminded me of clouds moving gently across the sky at dawn, with beautiful, soft corals and turquoise…and blue sky behind it. That part might have been the result of the drugs, but even so—I’ll take it!

When the implant was installed and unrolled itself, I was suddenly able to see the doctor’s face, then the machinery up toward the ceiling—and everything was clear enough that I could see the label on the equipment! Couldn’t read what it said, but just the fact that I could see that there was a label was astonishing.

I remember asking the surgeon if it was OK to laugh, because I couldn’t help it. Fortunately, she said that was just fine.

That evening, I found I was able to see things clear across the room. Even through the plastic shield protecting my eye, I could see better than with my glasses! How bright and clean everything looks! And it’s gotten better with every passing day.

The only difficulty now is that only the left eye is working (because the other one is still SO bad), which means I have no depth perception. But that’s just fine for now. And in three weeks, the other eye will be done and I’ll be fully bionic!

Wow. What a blessed life!

 

 

3 thoughts on “A Beautiful Surgery

  1. […] cataract surgery on my left eye on Monday; today’s Thursday. The vision on my left eye is now fantastic–better than […]

    • Karla says:

      This blog is beautiful, Kay. I feel at home with you going into this experience and surgery, largely because you went into depth (no pun intended. okay, maybe a little.) with your father being there, angels, cloud hues and “soft corals.” Add to that warmth and dreams and I wasn’t feeling squeamish at all… So glad you have this gift of sight back.

  2. Rose F. Holt says:

    Thank you for this beautiful post, Kay. Very moving. You were able to bring me into your experience in quite a magical way. Reading it was like being there, meeting your father and your surgeon. I laughed with you at your new vision.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s