Blue, Blue, My World is Blue

Not rose colored, are my new eye lenses. I underwent my second cataract removal and toric lens placement a few days ago. For the past two weeks, following the initial left eye correction, one eye saw the world as bright white, the other as if dusted in an off-shade of yellow. Wearing my glasses, my left vision was clear, the right fuzzy. Without glasses, it was reversed. My brain bounced around trying to decipher the world.

Now all is blue. Not bright blue. Clean blue. And all is clear, except close up. But it is early. I am counting on my brain adjusting soon.

Having endured the agonizing removal of the right eye cataract, I went into the second surgery with a veteran’s hubris, unaware that, like children, each procedure could be quite different.

Unlike the first procedure, I passed through the drilling and vacuuming of the offending growth in nocturnal bliss. Memories of the first lens placement do not exist. The second one took me into a new world, visions of bright pink spongy creatures as you might see in a deep-sea aquarium. I spent the time pulling together my meager knowledge of neurology to account for the visions which disappeared as soon as the surgery was complete.

At the follow-up, I asked the doctor about the difference. It could be related to the quality of the cataract or to the different anesthesia. Although the eye surgeon was the same, the anesthesiologist wasn’t. When before the surgery he asked if I had any questions, I simply requested more happy juice. He assured me he would provide plenty. The result being the second was much less annoying than the first and more colorful. Hmmm. Was this my first experience with a hallucinogen?

I have worn bifocals for 30 years, smugly appreciating that I didn’t need to search for reading glasses like too many people I know. Well, now, I will have to search for reading glasses and am learning how often I read. Practicing with a well-scratched pair of Mike’s, I am searching the internet for a granny chain like those worn by the schoolteachers of my youth, embarrassing my kids, no doubt. I reach for my bifocals, forgetting that I no longer need them, hesitant to trust my vision to detect bumps in the sidewalk. Or I trip over the rock because I have forgotten to remove the readers.

Friends’ testimonies prepared me to be shocked at the aged condition of my face once the cataracts were removed. Already aspiring to the Maggie Smith look, I felt I had taken a step forward. What I had not considered: eyeglass frames minimize the need for elaborate eye makeup. I may get a pair of plain glass frames just to simplify my beauty routine. Meanwhile, I landed a couple of pairs of half moon granny glasses. Sight over vanity.