How did my straightforward cataract surgery end up with me in the ER, with tubes and tests, my cataracts untouched? It was both a disappointment and a gift.
About to be wheeled into the operating theatre, the anesthesiologist handed me the tablet for my digital consent. I felt very nauseous. Head spinning nauseous.
“I’m going to be sick,” I said weakly. The kidney-shaped vomit catcher was thrust under my chin, someone lifted my head. My blood pressure and heart rate spiked. What the hell?
Before I knew it I was on drips with an overnight of observation. As my vitals calmed down tests revealed E.coli bacteria had caused an infection. The good news? I was in the right place, not a moment too soon.
People in their mid-70s, like me, are the most likely candidates for cataract surgery. My turn will come.
© 2024 Jane Trombley
