I Can See Clearly
Cataract Surgery Clarified My Life
It started out as an ordinary August morning. Julia, my 20-month-old daughter, went to play in the deep lot of our backyard. I called to her from the second-story balcony and asked her how she was doing. She shouted back, “Yum, mom!” to me. This meant that she was tasting the plentiful raspberries bound by the trellis in the righthand section of our garden.
Much to my dismay, I realized that I could not see Julia clearly from about 75 feet away. It shocked me to notice that at this distance my daughter’s body had become a cloudy silhouette. My chest tightened and I felt fear mount. To me this meant that my right eye’s cataract had grown denser.
So began a methodical orchestration of decisions and events. I began seeing ophthalmologist extraordinaire, Dr. A, in 1986, after my retinal physician noted increasing dense cataracts on both of my eyes. Since then, Dr. A had suggested cataract surgery, but I had delayed this due to my elevated risk of complications.
Given that I had vision only in my right eye, I faced a ten percent chance of severe complications after any major eye surgery, which included possible retinal detachment. In my deliberations, I engaged in magical thinking, downplaying the risk, and focusing more on the potential positive outcome. Perhaps, I just transposed a few decimals to the left, changing the risk to 0.1.
All told, I wished for only one thing — clear vision. Is that too much to ask? I pondered. I phoned the MD immediately to set up a date for my cataract surgery. Since we had already planned a trip to Cyprus, my husband, Ted’s birthplace, I scheduled the surgery to occur upon our return in October.
On the day of my surgery, escorted by my husband, I entered St. Francis Hospital in San Francisco. As I was being prepared for the operating room, my husband kissed me goodbye, and a current of fear coursed through me as I headed into the operating suite.
This tension completely dissipated when I heard Dr. A’s jovial voice playfully remarking, “Can you believe what Mrs. Stephanides did? She took her family vacation to Cyprus BEFORE her surgery, when she should have taken it AFTER her surgery.” I smiled and said, “My eyes are in your hands now, give it your best!” With no further ado, I quickly slipped into an anesthetic dream state.
I remained overnight for close monitoring that included frequent drops to my patched right eye. The following morning, Dr. A removed the patch, cleaned the crusting from around my eye, and asked me what I could see.
In a jubilant moment that would be forever etched in my brain, I grabbed his bright yellow and paisley print tie and proceeded to give him a detailed account of all the colors visible to me. I also commented about the bright white sheets that illuminated the room.
The linens seemed to jump up off their surfaces as I could finally see their stark outlines without any clouds or blur. My vision measured 20/70 one day post op without any complications and would steadily improve with time. I was ecstatic and as far as I was concerned, Dr. A was my hero.
History was to be made, when meeting Ted and my 22-month-old daughter Julia, in the patient pick up area. Julia hugged me and proudly exclaimed, “Dr. A fix mommy’s eye!”
This was one of her first complete sentences (noun, verb, object). Now whenever I retell this vignette, Julia rolls her eyes in tandem amusement and irritation since she has heard it so many times. Isn’t that one of a parent’s tacit roles in life, to embarrass their children with stories from their youth?
I felt exhilaration and relief as we walked to our car on Bush St. close to St. Francis Hospital, and this song rang out to me:
“I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s going to be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.”
Copyright 1972 by Johnny Nash
I am profoundly grateful for the expertise of Dr. A, for providing me a clear window, eliminating fog and clouds from my lens. His kind-heartedness, compassion, and his surgical skill made me feel completely cared for, with no room on my end for doubt, hesitation, or fear.
He enhanced, preserved, and modified my vision, which kept me fully engaged in life as a wife, mother, and nurse. Truly, he was the prime instrument who created the difference between dark cloudy days or those filled with sunshine, brightness, and optimism.
