Countown to Cataract Surgery - Off to Lake Galena yesterday, July 13, anniv of my dad's death and purchase of my car

Here I am in my eyeglasses, which I've mentioned I got at Armstrong-Colt. The woman who did the Rx did such a terrible job I can barely see.

But the reason I switched to Dr Francis Clark is b/c a couple of my friends, including Freda Samuels, highly recommend him.



I am not looking f/w to this surgery as it will entail fiddling around with my sacred eyes. They'll implant a lens behind my eye, but they told me I'll still need corrective lenses.

What will my vision be like the morrow?

I'll let you know.

And... can you believe it, we have New Directions meeting tomro nite?

Oops. Upside down. For the past three days I've been putting in these eyedrops as if they were the Holy Waters from the Shrine of Bernadette of Lourdes.

So what does a girl do on the day before cataract surgery. A small study, sent to me by my sister Ellen, shows that cat cat surgery, as I call it with my baby voice, may help people with Alz or dementia.

Did things I never do during the day. This busy executive (ha!) did things she practically never does.

And, believe me, I don't report these things on Facebook.

"Praying for a swift recovery"

"You'll do fine. You're an old hand with operations."

Watched a couple episodes of the British crime drama series Luther. Mon dieu, that man's got a terrible temper.



Scott needs a book to read tonite on the train, so I'm trying to finish my Tony Hillerman book.

My best reading is done sans glasses, holding the book within 1/2 inch from face.

The municipal tree-trimming company Asplundh sent a crew to remove and trim trees in the furthest reaches of my b/yard.

They goofed!

The aluminum capping broke off when a wire hit it. They hadn't realized how heavy the trees and the vines were.

All the Asplndhites went into a huddle in front of my house. They'll pay for the damage of course. I called up Bob Walsmley

  He'll try n get here this week. The time crunch is b/c when it rains, water can get into the house, said Scott.

Bob is going to Cleveland tomro as his niece is having surgery. 

I need a tarp up there.

This is one of two remaining peaches on our peach tree. Yep, the critters got to every single one.

There was a half-eaten one caught at the bottom of the net.

"Oh, not good enough for you!" I said after Scott pointed it out.

He was furious!

Preparing for our picnic yesterday at Lake Galena, we went to the Giant Salad Bar and saw Kiana, one of the coffee ladies.

I told her the Iced Hazelnut was the best coffee I've ever had there and that I couldn't fall asleep until 3 in the morning.

Kiana said that for some reason, iced coffee is far stronger than hot coffee. I'll vouch for that!

Imperative that I have a good nite sleep tonite for my eye-gouging tomro!

Nothing I love more than paddleboating on Lake Galena.

Always reminds me of Van Gogh's Boats. I used to have a calendar pic of it downstairs.

We dined on huge salads. I took a spoon and spread the h.b. egg all over the salad.

 At the suggestion of Jonatha on FB, I made squash blossom soup for lunch. After sauteeing em, tasted the blossoms... quite good!

 At twilight, I dined on the screened-in back porch, after driving Scott to the train station. We made a run for it between raindrops.

 Added some egg for protein to the squash blossom soup. We need protein for.....

CATARACT SURGERY

On Tuesday they will

position her on the table

the surgeon is a handsome

man with chewing-gum breath

she will not imagine lying down

with him in a Motel 6 and reading

love songs from the Gideon Bible

As a child they marveled over

her long black eyelashes

which flutter now looking

at her savior’s dark eyes

trying not to think of the

violence that will be done

to eyes that have watched

the birth of two children

her handsome father

eaten alive by cancer

her mean grandmother who

beat her with a yardstick as

a child, going down with dementia

and taken for a fool

and the hummingbird she

watches for every day by the red daisies 

Driving home from Doylestown

in the inky black night the lights

were a blur, beautiful, really, like

Venus and Saturn landing in the

fast lane, all Christmas-tree

sparkles and Fourth of July fireworks

she was dazzled as she braked

on and off

on and off

thinking “vision impaired vision impaired”

They were like little white puffs

pillows, growing behind her eyes

she was no Navajo, with their bloodsome
curing rituals - 
couldn’t do a thing to stop them

head immobilized now

under bright hospital lights

unable to move in her

twilight sleep

she sees the clean sheets on

her bed, covered with books

she has yet to finish.