Hospitals scare me

This was probably a good one, but hospitals still scare me. I was told to arrive at 6:45 am. Since retiring I consider that an obscene hour. Especially if it is still dark out. I drove myself to the hospital. They make it very easy: drive into the ambulatory patient parking lot, walk into the hospital. Like the army this is hurry up and wait. If I had arrived an hour later, it would have been fine.

They took me in, finally, had me undress completely (for eye surgery), and put on those wonderful hospital gowns. Then they started putting drops into my eye. Along with the drops came lots of paperwork. I signed my name, over and over. Since they had already taken my contact lenses away I couldn’t read any of the papers, even if they had given me time to do it. After much probing of my left hand, they finally attached an IV to my right hand. By the time they took me down to the surgery room I was panicky. I don’t panic easily. I’m one of those idiots who seldom fear anything ahead of time.

The actual surgery took much less time than all the pre-op. Within a short time Steve came to get me and drove me home. I have four bottles of eye drops to put in on an interesting schedule: twice a day for one; three times for two of them; four times for one and shake it well. Good thing I still have most of my marbles.

I’ve had no pain, but I have a big concern. I’m not able to see much out of that eye. I don’t know how quickly vision is supposed to recover, but this feels a little like the last time. I was hoping this one would be easier. I go back to the doctor at 8 am tomorrow. I’ll ask a lot of questions.

1 thought on “Hospitals scare me

  1. Hope your recovery from eye surgery goes well. Know it’s memory gymnastics to keep track of the sked for the application of the different eye drops, but somehow we get through it, as I’m sure you learned from the previous one.
    Have never understood why the results for some people eliminates the need for glasses, but not for others.
    I am so grateful they came up with the lens implant. I recall a generation or so ago people were pretty much stuck, or if they were able to have the surgery, they often had to wear what, I think, was called coke bottle glasses.

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