Having my pucker removed

What a God-awful year 2020 has been and it's not even half over. Let's see, there's been a global pandemic, racial unrest, the economy has crashed, and now I’m having my pucker removed.

No, I’m not becoming Thomasina. I'm perfectly happy with the gender I was assigned at conception (though I reserve the right to change my mind if my current gender goes out of style).  I have a pucker — wrinkle— on the macula of my retina, the light-sensitive tissue of my right eye, that is distorting my vision. 

I’ve always had near-perfect eyesight. A couple of years ago I noticed it was becoming blurry. My ophthalmologist said I had cataracts, which are common in people my age.

In January, after I pulled out into the path of a semi I hadn't seen barreling toward me, I decided to have them removed. The right eye was to be done first, followed by the left eye a week later. I was assured that 99 of every 100 cataract procedures are complication-free and that, within 48 hours, I’d be seeing perfectly thanks to the expensive multi-focal lens the doctor was going to insert, replacing the fogged-over lens in my right eye.

I was the one out of 100. The surgery caused blisters to form on my retina, along with a macular pucker. Everything looked like it was being reflected back from a funhouse mirror. The cataract doc sent me to a retina specialist.  Two weeks later the blisters had dried up but the pucker remained.

Each month since, I’ve had shots in my eyeball which, it was hoped, would smooth out the pucker. They didn’t work. And so, a week from Monday, I’m having surgery to have the top layer of my retina removed, which should get rid of the pucker. 

I made the mistake of watching videos about the procedure. There are a lot of invasive tools involved -- knives, scissors, icepicks, jackhammers, etc. Even though I'll be knocked out, I worry I’ll sneeze during the most critical juncture and will wind up with a hole where my eyeball used to be and will go through life looking like Orphan Annie. 

The recovery process will be relatively simple but lengthy. I won't be able to lie flat, exercise or bend over to pick up the dogs, and will have to wear sunglasses for two to four weeks, even when I'm inside. And I've read that pucker removal surgery, about 50 percent of the time, causes a new cataract to form within a couple of years in which case I'll be back at square one. At least I have one good eye -- my left  -- which has, and will continue to have, a cataract over it because I sure as hell have no intention of ever letting a surgeon anywhere near it.

I'm not complaining. I know I’m lucky. The only surgery I’ve had before this was a tonsilectomy when I was 15. I’m otherwise in good health. I’ve enjoyed great vision and didn't even need reading glasses until the cataracts appeared. It's not like I'm having cancer or heart surgery. But I sure can’t wait until this is over so I can see clearly again.

On second thought, perhaps I should ask for extra anesthesia that’ll keep me asleep until January 1, 2021.  Given all the crap that’s happened so far in 2020, I’m not so sure I want to be able to see what the second half of the year is going to look like.