I’m Keeping An Eye On You

eyes-2

No good deed ever goes unpunished. 😯

A young man was convicted of a crime, and sentenced to prison. Shortly after arriving, he became well-known to the prison infirmary. First, his tonsils got infected, and had to be removed, then he jammed his little finger in a press in the prison work-room, and had to have it amputated. His appendix swelled up and almost burst before they operated on him. Finally, he had to go to the prison dentist to have his wisdom teeth pulled.

The Warden followed him in and stood in front of the chair. “I’m onto you Mister! Don’t think that I don’t know what you’re up to. You’re trying to sneak out of here, one little piece at a time.”

Gravity Well

And so it is with me. I had the retina of my right eye operated on, back around New Years. I was told to come back in about 6 weeks for a follow-up, and if things had gone well, I might have the left eye done also. Things went well. The film on the retina had caused a divot which made words and letters fall in, like the Black Hole gravity well above.

The eye still has blurry spots, but is expected to continue to improve. Re-examination of the left eye shows that it can be ignored for some time. HOWEVER….

I was told to go to my local Ophthalmologist after another 6 weeks for a final check-up. Tests last year showed the merest of beginnings of cataracts in both eyes. When she examined them, she was happy with the surgical results, only….

After the Optical Surgeon poked three needles into the right eye, some of the vitreous humor fluid leaked out, and got on the lens. Apparently, this can stimulate the development of cataracts. Now I am scheduled to go to a local hospital, Thursday, June 13th, to have her peel off cataracts which are developing on the right eye and which made me think that the first operation was not completely successful.

Pirate

First I told my pharmacist that a guy had stuck three needles into my eye. Now I told her that someone is going to use a medical potato peeler to strip off cloudy surface lens material. She is astounded that I can so calmly joke about such a thing. That’s just the way I deal with potentially stressful situations. There’s no sense brooding about it, and driving up my blood pressure. Making fun of it makes it less frightening.

During the first operation, my head was reclined almost upside-down, and all work was done below my field of vision.  For this one, she’ll be coming directly at me.  I wonder how disconcerting that will be.  😯

Like before, I may be incommunicado for a while, but, like Arnie The Terminator – “I’ll be back.” See you then – I hope.   😎

White Cane

Advertisements

Laugh – It’s The Christian Thing To Do

Nun

Two nuns are doing their grocery shopping.

As they pass the cooler full of beer, one nun says longingly to the other one, “A cold beer would go down great tonight!”

“Indeed,” the other nun replies, “but how can we show up with beer at the check-out counter?”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” the first nun answers. “Grab a six-pack.”

The cashier is surprised when he sees the beer, but the one nun is ready with an explanation.

“We use the beer to wash our hair,” she says, “At the convent, we call it ‘Catholic shampoo.’”

Without hesitation the cashier bends down, grabs a package of pretzels, and throws it in one of the nuns’ grocery bags, saying “The curlers are on the house.”

***

A man suffered a serious heart attack and had an open heart bypass surgery. He awakened from the surgery to find himself in the care of nuns at a Catholic Hospital.

As he was recovering, a nun asked him questions regarding how he was going to pay for his treatment. She asked if he had health insurance.

He replied, in a raspy voice, “No health insurance.”

The nun asked if he had money in the bank.

He replied, “No money in the bank.”

The nun asked, “Do you have a relative who could help you?”

He said, “I only have a spinster sister, who is a nun.”

The nun became agitated and announced loudly, “Nuns are not spinsters! Nuns are married to God.”

The patient replied, “Send the bill to my Brother-in-law.

***

ON THE OTHER HAND

I was walking across a bridge one day and I saw a man standing on a ledge, about to jump off. So I ran over and said, “Stop! Don’t do it!”
“Why shouldn’t I?” he said.
“Well, there’s so much to live for.” “Like what?” “Well, are you religious?” He said yes. I said, “Me too! Are you Christian or Buddhist?” “Christian.” “Me too! Are you Catholic or Protestant?”
“Protestant.” “Me too! Are you Episcopalian or Baptist?”
“Baptist.” “Wow, me too! Are you Baptist Church of God or are you Reformed Baptist Church of God?”
“Reformed Baptist Church of God.” “Me too. Are you Reformed Baptist Church of God, Reformation of 1789 or Reformed Baptist Church of God, 1915?”
He said, “Reformed Baptist Church of God, Reformation of 1915.”
I said, “Die, heretic scum!!” and pushed him off the bridge.

***

Priest

The priest was preparing a dying man for his voyage into the great beyond.

Whispering firmly, the priest said, “Denounce the devil! Let him know how little you think of his evil!”

The dying man said nothing.

The priest repeated his order.

Still the dying man said nothing.

The priest asked, “Why do you refuse to denounce the devil and his evil?”

The dying man said, “Until I know where I’m heading, I don’t think I ought to aggravate anybody.”

***

One pleasant afternoon, a Priest and a Nun were out golfing. The father deferred to the Nun on the first hole, and she hit a nice ball towards the green. The Father tees up, then smacks the ball into the woods. “Damn it! #$*^&%$#%^@$# %#&^%&!$, I MISSED!” he cries. “Father!” says the Nun, “You should watch your language. The Lord will not like it.”

The second hole comes up. The father tees off, and the ball once again goes sailing into the woods. “Damn it! #$*^&^%$#%^@$#, I MISSED!” he cries. “Father!” says the Nun, “Watch what you say! It is Blasphemy!”

On the third hole, the father again tees up his ball. Once again, the ball sails wide, this time landing in the water hazard. “Damn it! #$*^&^%$#%^@$#, I MISSED!” he cries. As the Nun starts to speak, a great bolt of lightning sails down from the sky and strikes the Nun, reducing her to ash. From the sky comes a booming voice: “Damn it! #$*^&^%$#%^@$#, I MISSED!”

***

A small-town preacher was known for getting around town on his bicycle.
One day, a neighbor noticed him walking and asked him about his missing bike.

The preacher said, “Can you believe someone stole it?!”
The man replied, “I have an idea. On Sunday, give a sermon on the Ten Commandments. When you get to Thou Shalt Not Steal, really rail on it, and the thief is sure to feel guilty and return your bike.”
The preacher agreed and went on his way.

A week later, the neighbor again ran into the preacher, reunited with his bike.

“So the sermon worked, I see!”
The preacher answered, “Apparently so! I got to Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery and remembered where I left my bike.”

’18 A To Z Challenge – V

surrounded

So, there I was, surrounded by my adoring fans/all the daughter’s pets, when I thought that I should start another A To Z Challenge blog-post when I got home.

glasses

When I got there, I couldn’t see my way clear to actually compose anything, because….  Forget about the dog(s) eating my homework.  The two little #*$@ darlings ate my glasses.  Fortunately, I’ve got an old pair that would suffice, at least until the Optical Surgeon gouged one of my eyes out.

meetings

I finally decided to do a little research on words that begin with the letter V, and found

Velleity

noun, plural vel·le·i·ties.

  1. volition in its weakest form.
  2. a mere wish, unaccompanied by an effort to obtain it.

Well, I’ve already lost the chance to claim it, because I’ve researched and downloaded it.  At least the definition doesn’t say anything about procrastination or laziness.  Throw in a couple of cheap and easy graphics, and that’s all I have to say about the letter V.  If you don’t like it, tough luck.

no fucks

I ordered a big shipment of motivation from Amazon, but it was delayed by the Christmas rush.  It just arrived, so I’ll do much better in a couple of weeks, for the letter W.  See you then.  😀

I Spy With My Little Eye

Pirate

I’m going to get my chance to pace the poop-deck, (Heh, Heh, I said poop 😆 ) and do my best pirate impersonation.

When eye wrote of having an impending eye operation, eye expected to be given a couple of weeks warning, so that we could adjust our sleep schedules.  We are unlike most retirees, staying up late partying reading, and sleeping in.

Eye got 93 hours – less than four days – notice.  A lovely tech named Olivia (Suddenly eye’m surrounded by Olivias.) called, at 11:30 AM, Thursday, January 3rd. to say that eye had surgery scheduled for 8:00 AM, Monday, Jan. 7th, and to be at the hospital by 6:00 AM to register.

It was bad enough getting the wife to a local hospital by 6 AM for her two knee surgeries, but this hospital is an extra hour and a half drive away.  We’ll have to be ready to leave by 4.  I might as well just stay up. I could peacefully sleep through the operation, but the wife would need sleep to drive me home.  Then I need to be back at the same hospital by 7:30 the following morning, for assessment and removal of my pirate eye-patch.

Eye’m posting this note a day ahead of my normal schedule, just to give you the heads-up that I threatened promised.  Just after midnight, eye’ll click publish on my regularly scheduled A To Z Challenge.  After that, eye may not post for a few days, or a week.

Eye’ll see you here soon…. I hope.   😎

’18 A To Z Challenge – S

 

Challenge '18letter-s-super

 

 

 

 

 

Somebody else also got a vasectomy, but he was an asshole about it.  Read all about his

SURGERY

Hedge Clippers

In Valium Veritas

I got the inspiration for my recent Recovery post, by reading one from a woman who accompanied her husband to the hospital for his vasectomy.  He got so worked up about it, (as many men do) that they gave him a Valium to calm him down.

It affected him strangely.  She felt that it hit him like a non-prescription drug, or alcohol.  He started saying, what she felt were amusing things, so she recorded them and built a blog-post from them.

While she may have found his actions and utterances in the hospital amusing, like the little kid who fell into a mud puddle (and profanity) in my That’s Not Funny post, I think it acts more like a truth serum, and reveals a lot about his basic character and attitudes.  Here’s his sit-down comedy routine and some of my comments. Feel free to add yours below.

That man looks way too happy to be doing his job.

Just another Urologist, who may not even have been performing vasectomies.  A little homophobia anyone?

That’s way too many white people. 

She left it unclear whether he was referring to patients/visitors, hospital staff, or both.  He’s white, but who does he think he is, the Equal Opportunity Employment Manager?

Look, it’s the man who’s going to cut open my penis.  I hope you don’t take too much.

He didn’t really read the preparation literature, did he?  They don’t cut the penis.  He’s got a real worry about size.  His ego is as big as his imagination.

You think that woman is going to have a vasectomy??  Tee-hee, ask her.

He’s not really that stupid, is he? (See ‘cut open my penis’, above)  And he wants to embroil his wife in this embarrassing behavior.

I could go through life like this.  And I wouldn’t be useless either.

I can believe that he would go through life like that, if someone else would support him.  The added degree of useless would scarcely be noticed.

About a nurse who arrived for work ONLY 5 minutes early.
That woman’s late for work.  That’s unacceptable.

Now he thinks that he is the hospital’s Employment Practices Manager.  If the nurse she’s replacing, or the department supervisor, doesn’t say anything – Render unto Caesar, or keep your mouth shut.

I’m not going to say what I want to say, all these bitches walking around. 

I think he’s said quite enough thank you.  Enough to reveal that he is a real misogynist, with no respect for women.

The next day, after the Valium had worn off, to his wife with two children, but who really wanted more babies.
I got the snip-snip-sniparoo.  No more babies for you.

According to her post, she thought that this was funny.  I think that they should have performed an Optrectomy on him while they had him.  That’s the operation that severs the nerve connecting the eyes to the asshole, getting rid of that shitty attitude about everything.

I pity the poor woman.  Sadly, there are so many more with loud-mouth, opinionated husbands like this.  If he were mine, a large frying pan might accidently go off while I was cleaning it, striking him in the head – 4 or 5 times.  What about you?  Is comparing him to a worm in an apple too good for him?

A To Z Challenge – R

 

Challenge '18letter-r

RECOVERY

Hedge Clippers

I HAD A VASECTOMY!  I know, I know!  TMI!  TMI!  The guys are now clenched so hard that they could hold an aspirin with their butt-cheeks, and the women are diplomatically trying hard not to smile.  Still, it’s something that should be mentioned.

After a few years of marriage, I had produced a couple of offspring and a paltry paycheck, so we decided to stave off poverty, using birth control.  ‘The Pill’ was available, but difficult to obtain, and expensive.  Using Ontario’s “free” socialized medicine, either the wife or I could get sterilized.

If she has her tubes tied, it’s three or four days of extreme discomfort, and a week to recover….all while I’m taking care of a 4-year-old, and a 1-year-old.  If I have the snip, it’s a couple of days of mild discomfort, and I get waited on.  The choice wasn’t difficult.  Some years later, my brother also decided to have it done.  He drove to the hospital on a Saturday morning…. but couldn’t bring himself to go in.

I got the idea for this post from another woman, whose husband was given a Valium at the hospital, to calm him down, and had an interesting reaction.  I’ll tell you about him in a couple of weeks, when I write about ‘S for surgery.’  I wanted to tell my tale first, so I titled it ‘Recovery.’  I already have a word picked out for V, so I don’t need either Vasectomy (easy, guys), or Valium.

When she wrote of her husband’s Valium adventures, I made the following comment:

Now I feel cheated. I didn’t get a Valium. They may not have been invented back when I had the procedure. I had it done in the doctor’s office on a Friday morning, before I went to work. I got a local anesthetic injection, and went to the office after.  The doctor who actually performed the procedure was another, of three doctors sharing a practice.  I wasn’t told why at the time, but found out later that my doctor was a barely-functioning alcoholic.  I am so glad that he didn’t get his shaky hands on my delicate crotch.

The shot was just wearing off by the time I left work at 5 PM. Still, I only took 4 of the 8 pain pills Doc gave me, over the weekend. He warned me that I would feel like I got kicked in the groin by a horse. Actually, I didn’t. I looked like a horse had kicked me – bruises in colors not normally found in nature.  Her husband was grumpy after the meds wore off.  I purposely had mine on a Friday, then I had the entire weekend to be grumpy, and there was that bag of frozen peas that never made it to the table.

In a couple of weeks, I’ll tell you a tale about the dangers of drug use – even if it was just an innocent little Valium, but please come back before then.  We have other topics to discuss.  😀

 

She Blinded Me With Science

Scalpel

I just hired a guy to stab me in the eye!  😯

It all started so innocently.  I visited my Optometrist for my yearly checkup.  I rather like it when a good-looking woman stares deeply into my eyes…. just not when she uses a quarter of a million dollars worth of equipment that looks like it escaped from a nuclear power station.

I have developed a film over both retinas, like a crinkly sheet of Saran, which blurs my vision a bit.  Worse, it contracts, and lifts the retina, changing the focus depth, especially at the fovea – the most sensitive part.  It’s only going to slowly get worse.

Suddenly, I had a referral to an Optical Surgeon in the Eye Clinic of St. Joseph’s Hospital portion of the University of London (Ontario), a 90 minute drive away.  There is a local surgeon who does this operation here, at St. Mary’s Hospital, but both my Optometrist, and my Ophthalmologist swear that the London facility, and my ‘new guy’, are the best in Canada.

We drove down for an examination and consultation – and I have seen the light – in all intensities, and from all angles.  It is important that I maintain my sight as long as possible.  The wife retains her driver’s licence, just in case, but her vision is worse than mine.  The Optometrist says that she is still a way from having it suspended for vision – and that scares the Hell out of me.  There are people out there, still driving, with vision worse than the wife’s??!  It may explain the plethora of accident-strewn intersections in this town.

An afternoon’s worth of tests revealed that this condition in my left eye is actually worse than the right, but, in the right, there is deterioration of the light receptor cells near the fovea, therefore I would get more benefit from having the right eye operated on first.

Facing having someone cut into your body creates enough mental trauma, even when it’s necessary.  I do have a bionic shoulder, and more recently, a hernia patch support.  Thinking about somebody cutting into your eye takes a bit more getting used to.

My lady pharmacist said that I sounded very matter-of-fact, when I told her how the surgeon would open the side of the eye, carefully remove the optical gel, strip off this befuddling film, and put the little 3D puzzle all back together.

Once the decision has been made, I have to accept it.  It’s not something that I look forward to, but I plan on living another 20 years.  I don’t want to have to spend any portion of it unable to read or blog, or housebound because I can’t drive.

Besides, I’ll be unconscious while it’s all happening…. 😯  And then the surgeon casually remarked that, “It’ll be done under local anesthetic.”  SCREECH!  BANG!  WHAT??!  What if I twitch?  They’ll tape and eye-patch the left eye closed, and inject something to immobilize the optical muscles.  They’re going to use one of those things from the movie, A Clockwork Orange, to hold the eye open.

eyes-2

Simulation only.  I probably won’t look anywhere near this calm.

What if my head moves?  They stick it in a padded vice.  Also, I’ll be given a strong sedative, beforehand.  Ahhh, good.  Me and drugs get along real well.  If this is anything like the time they stuck a periscope up my ass, I’ll probably sleep through it all, peacefully.

This is all tentatively scheduled for some time in the New Year.  I’ll keep the less queasy of you informed, while I can still see to type.  If the first one works out as well as we all hope and expect, they’ll do the other side 6 to 8 weeks later.  You can wish me luck if you’d like, but please don’t pray for me.  😀

Click to hear Thomas Dolby tell how it all happened.

White Cane