If you don’t get my newsletter (and why don’t you? Huh? Huh? Huh? Just click on the signup box or these words: This magic carpet will take you to a wondrous world) you’ll be seeing this news for the first time – I had double cataract surgery and Kalli had a surgery within two weeks in July.
We’re both doing quite well now.
Kalli the escape artist
Kalli had a lipoma removed. These fat tumors are often just left to be, but hers was impeding her walk. It was under her chest muscle and it kept growing a lot and quickly.
She’s recovering well, though not fast enough for her. I expect any moment to find her on eBay trying to trade the Cone of Shame for a treat. Went to the store the other night and she had the CoS off before I was out the door.
The vet suggested that, in addition to wearing the CoS when she was “unsupervised,” that she wear a t-shirt all the time to keep her away from the incision. With no shortage of old t-shirts around, we jumped on that, and Kalli’s been “seeing red” in this fashion statement ever since.
But it seemed tight under her legs, so we added slits.
Houdini dog keeps getting her front legs through the slits instead of the armholes. Or out completely. Every time I look at her she has the t-shirt in a different place.
The good thing is I don’t think she’s been licking the incision. Though she has hooked a paw or two in the shirt several times. We’re on constant t-shirt patrol to keep her from getting too tangled up.
Eye Drops Are Falling on My Head
Like Kalli’s lipoma, my cataracts also kept growing. A year ago the eye doctor said, “Any time.”
As I usually do, I researched the process, what recovery was like, and potential pitfalls. So I knew going in about being awash in eye drops, pre- and post-surgery.
What was interesting was that the first drops after surgery were rather dicey. Not being able to see to zero in the landing spot
for the drops and not being able to feel if they’d landed meant a shower of eye drops streaming down my face. I could just see that report – Cause of Death: Drowned in Eye Drops. ‘-)
I also knew about not putting your head down (because that adds pressure on your eye, which has just had the lens replaced, and you sure don’t want it popping out because it hasn’t yet healed.)
Knowing about it didn’t mean I remembered it.
So I heard a lot of “Don’t put your head down!” shouts from family. Though, oddly, I could remember it when it came to loading and unloading the dishwasher. “Oh, I can’t put my head down. Would you unload the dishwasher, please?” Interesting, huh?
As you can see by the photo, I wasn’t exactly stressed about the process (this was three days after the first surgery.)
But then came seeing red…and other colors
Here’s what they don’t tell you. Or at least what I didn’t fully comprehend.
Cataracts add a yellow cast to the world. Sure that can make some things harder to see. Like cars at night. Like computer screens during the day. Like small print at all hours.
But I like yellow.
I like it a lot.
Having it subtracted from my visual life has had varied effects.
It’s been mildly interesting to see the sky as a lighter blue.
It’s been disconcerting to discover I don’t like the color of my 12-year-old car as much as I thought I did. Too rosy. I’m not seeing red the way I used to, so it’s not true-red enough for me.
It’s been distressing to discover that geraniums I’ve had for years, wintering them inside, taking them out to the deck for the summer, all the while knowing they were coral are now … pink. Really, really pink. Have I mentioned I’m not a fan of pink?
Impatiens have pulled the same trick on me. And another set of plants I saw as true red, even tomato red, are now rosy red, with a lot more blue in the color.
After the geraniums pulled the rug out from under me colorwise, I am deeply grateful to the day lilies for remaining orange – thank heavens.
Plant rearranging is in my near future, so the pink geraniums will go to the back, behind other plants, so I won’t see them as clearly, even without cataracts.
The End is near
Kalli has finished her antibiotics yesterday, though she has almost a week to go before the stitches come out.
She’s still on restricted activity until then, so she’s blocked from windows where kids, other dogs, chipmunks, the mailman, and squirrels spark barking mania.
She has peach fuzz where they shaved her coat for the surgery. Doesn’t seem to bother her in the least. No scratching or rubbing.
I am on my last day of eye drops – YAY! Still adjusting … and planning on some flower purchases so I’ll once again be seeing red. True red.
As for the car … I’m going to have to live with that color red for a few more years unless there’s a color rinse for cars.
~ ~ ~
Do you have a really good memory? If so, you might remember that Kalli and I did this surgery togetherness once before. That tale was in blogs What I Did During My Christmas Vacation (and why it might be important for your health) and Kalli’s Turn for Surgery…Oh My from early 2016. As the vet receptionist said, we have got to quit coordinating our surgeries.
Last Few Days!
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