I did my dreary hour's sleep, five hours awake, hour's sleep thing again last night. I wasn't consciously nervous, but you can't hide from yourself in the early hours. I had to get up early and leave the house soon after 7 because Weeza was driving me to the hospital (which reminds me, I clean forgot to offer to pay her extra childminding costs. Whoops).
I get my worrying done early, you see. It's quite good really, because it means that when I have to go for the (extremely minor) operation, I'll have done with all that anxiety nonsense and will be looking forward to it. Today, it was just for my eye to be looked at.
I've got this thing on my eyelid, as you'll have noticed if you've met me. It's been there for a few years, although I'm so vague and unobservant that I don't know when it popped up. It's a little - well, it's not a wart but it looks a bit like one, and it's on the top lid of my right eye, in the corner. I've wished it wasn't there ever since it's been there, but I didn't do anything about it until (because I check frequently) I discovered a month ago that it had grown quite a bit, not visibly from the outside but about half a grain of rice sized under the lid. I was on to the doctor the next morning, made an appointment for the day after tomorrow (today being the day that was tomorrow yesterday, this was about a month ago) and received my hospital appointment within the week. I was pretty impressed with the speed of it all.
Today, I was even more impressed. The letter had a bar code to self-register on arrival, but there was a nice man there to help if necessary. I was called by a nurse ten minutes early to have my eyesight checked, waited another ten minutes and was seen by a doctor, who agreed that the lump should be removed. He also observed that there's a discharge, which I was unaware of. And he explained that, at present, they are only allowed to remove things that are giving concern - ie, that they might be malignant, which this isn't in his opinion (nor in mine, for what it's worth). But, since it would be checked anyway, he would put on the form that it does give cause for concern, because otherwise there would be many pages of forms and a delay before they got authorisation for the operation. So I'm not to worry about what the letter I will receive says. And I'll lose a few eyelashes, is that okay? I said I could live with that. He said they would use a local anaesthetic. I'd expected that, said it was fine.
Weeza asked how long before I can drive again and how long it would take to heal. Next day, and a week or so, though it might look a bit sore for a few more days.
We left the eye clinic at 20 past 9 from a 9 o'clock appointment, which was fantastically efficient, and I'd been treated with courtesy and kindness throughout. I'd asked Weeza to take me, just in case they put drops in and I wasn't able to drive for a while, but I'd have been fine as it happens.
Actually, I hate the thought - who wouldn't? - of sitting there with my eyes open while one of them is attacked by a scalpel. But it'll be interesting, anyway. And I'm working myself up to being quite excited about it. I'll be so glad to get rid of that wretched thing - I'm not a vain woman, but it takes an effort not to be self-conscious. Anyway, I'm as lucky as anyone can be - if that's the worst thing wrong with me, I can only be vastly grateful.
I get my worrying done early, you see. It's quite good really, because it means that when I have to go for the (extremely minor) operation, I'll have done with all that anxiety nonsense and will be looking forward to it. Today, it was just for my eye to be looked at.
I've got this thing on my eyelid, as you'll have noticed if you've met me. It's been there for a few years, although I'm so vague and unobservant that I don't know when it popped up. It's a little - well, it's not a wart but it looks a bit like one, and it's on the top lid of my right eye, in the corner. I've wished it wasn't there ever since it's been there, but I didn't do anything about it until (because I check frequently) I discovered a month ago that it had grown quite a bit, not visibly from the outside but about half a grain of rice sized under the lid. I was on to the doctor the next morning, made an appointment for the day after tomorrow (today being the day that was tomorrow yesterday, this was about a month ago) and received my hospital appointment within the week. I was pretty impressed with the speed of it all.
Today, I was even more impressed. The letter had a bar code to self-register on arrival, but there was a nice man there to help if necessary. I was called by a nurse ten minutes early to have my eyesight checked, waited another ten minutes and was seen by a doctor, who agreed that the lump should be removed. He also observed that there's a discharge, which I was unaware of. And he explained that, at present, they are only allowed to remove things that are giving concern - ie, that they might be malignant, which this isn't in his opinion (nor in mine, for what it's worth). But, since it would be checked anyway, he would put on the form that it does give cause for concern, because otherwise there would be many pages of forms and a delay before they got authorisation for the operation. So I'm not to worry about what the letter I will receive says. And I'll lose a few eyelashes, is that okay? I said I could live with that. He said they would use a local anaesthetic. I'd expected that, said it was fine.
Weeza asked how long before I can drive again and how long it would take to heal. Next day, and a week or so, though it might look a bit sore for a few more days.
We left the eye clinic at 20 past 9 from a 9 o'clock appointment, which was fantastically efficient, and I'd been treated with courtesy and kindness throughout. I'd asked Weeza to take me, just in case they put drops in and I wasn't able to drive for a while, but I'd have been fine as it happens.
Actually, I hate the thought - who wouldn't? - of sitting there with my eyes open while one of them is attacked by a scalpel. But it'll be interesting, anyway. And I'm working myself up to being quite excited about it. I'll be so glad to get rid of that wretched thing - I'm not a vain woman, but it takes an effort not to be self-conscious. Anyway, I'm as lucky as anyone can be - if that's the worst thing wrong with me, I can only be vastly grateful.
12 comments:
Oh my goodness. An eye op?! Eww...
Yay! For the NHS sorting it out so promptly.
When do you go in to have it done?
Hugs to you! xxx
They'll send an appointment, which I can change if need be - I rely on Weeza or Dilly to drive me home. This month or next, I guess. It's fine, I'll be glad to have it done. Thank you, darling xxx
And Dinah loves doctors/nurses who can think around the hurdles.
Very good timing by all.
Tip: if you can relax without mentally humming that will help. My dentist once asked why I was moving and winking. I'd been mentally humming Carmen and apparently it involved a lot of facial wiggles.
You are extremely brave to put contact lenses in your eyes. I could never do that.
Good luck, Z! I'm sure all will be well. I've had an eye op, when I was much younger and fearless - the NHS were brilliant.
I came home with a massive patch over my eye and lots of bandage, which made me look like I had a head injury. It generated much attention, which was fab for my 14 year old self!
Sx
It's not that I'm jumping a queue or getting something done that I shouldn't be, just saving on admin and time. So yes, a sensible solution.
I usually recite poetry and multiplication tables as a distraction. 17 times table is most soothing, I find, though I also like squares. Maybe it's time to work on cubes too, or choose a number and work out its factors - that'd distract me.
Vanity, Rog, saves me having to wear glasses.
Ooh, that'd be impressive - I could pretend that I got into a fight! - "you should see the other bloke..."
Sometimes the NHS is very efficient. In my experience, once you get past your GP practice, everything else works pretty smoothly.
Good luck with the op. I have had laser eye correction and it is a bit odd having your eye open while it is being operated on. My procedure was over quickly so I hope yours will be too.
As far as relaxing went, I cheated and asked my GP for tranquilizers.
It's the thought of blood filling my eye that's a bit perturbing, unless they have some means of stopping that happening. I'm nowhere near sensible enough to contemplate taking tranquilisers
It'll be fine. They've done it before.
I agree about the NHS in general, although it varies from place to place and time to time. But at least you're getting it out of the way now, rather than in two years' time when it'll be done by G4S contractors.
It'll be fine is what I'll have on my tombstone, Tim. Though not yet, I trust.
Barney thought he'd be terrified when he had his cataracts doen but he was surprised by how unalarming it was - and he can't bear anything touching his eyes.
It'll be a relief to have the thing gone I expect, it's tiring and stressful having anything in your eye and you can do without that!
I can't see it, but now it's grown I can feel it and yes, I want rid of it.
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