I’ve had some minor surgery on my eyes, if anything related to surgery and eyes can be termed minor. This is the third day, and I’m ready for the healing to begin. Enough of ice packs and sleeping in Ed’s recliner at night. There’s no pain, but the gel in my eyes causes them to be blurry, so I can’t read, check my email, watch TV, drive. It’s frustrating. Today my eyes have begun to itch, and I can’t scratch either. My daughters have been hovering over me, concerned that all goes well. It’s not life threatening or sight threatening, but I appreciate their concern anyway.
You may wonder how I’m writing this blog. As long as I have my fingers on the right keys, I can type away without seeing what I’m doing. I have Tina check on me occasionally to see if I’m typing gibberish. I’m sure lessons can be learned from this experience, besides patience, that is, but I don’t know what they are yet. Maybe if I type long enough something will come to me.
There is one thing I need to confess. I’ve had plenty of time to think in the last few days, and I need to get this off my chest. Last year, I fof I dhsry kru,brtomh orkflsddrromy/ orkflsddrromy/myhjomhm, fkfo/ I feel better now.
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