BLUR
Cataracts.
Operation.
No guarantees.
The words drop like stones. She stumbles home in a
blur of eye drops and fear.
The day arrives. More drops so no reading for
distraction – nothing to do but wait and worry. Bright lights, a blur of
movement, the nurse’s hand a lifeline squeezed bloodless.
She goes home wearing a pirate patch and a relieved
smile. Gazes at her unfamiliar reflection, restyles her hair, and walks in the
rain without the blur of raindrops on glasses.
Now she’s a veteran. Cataract operation? Nothing to it
– a doddle – you’ll be fine!
................................................................................................................
'She' is of course me - I had both cataracts done last year and, after a lifetime of -9.5 myopia, I now only need glasses for reading. I could have written another story about having to dot several pairs around the house because I am unused to having to put glasses on for reading!
I was AWOL last week due to various family matters, but I missed you all so here I am again. Thanks to CE Ayr for the photograph and to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog, from where you can follow the blue frog link to read other stories. https://rochellewisoff.com/
