<p>Did you ever have to have a bath with your eyes closed, ensuring that no water enters them? Certainly for a head bath, and especially for women, I keep wondering how it can be done without at least a drop slyly getting in. But yes, the instructions were very strict that I could only have a head bath without allowing water to enter my eyes.</p>.<p>When I went to the eye clinic for a routine check-up (it had been quite a while since the last one), and was told that sooner than later I should get the cataract operation done in both eyes, I was a little shocked. I didn’t think that anything was wrong or so bad with my eyes as to require any attention. I hate operations — who doesn’t? So many instructions and dos and don’ts to be followed with so many other precautions — in this case, no water must enter the eyes at all for ever so many days, and different drops must be given for at least two months!</p>.<p>Earlier, operations (especially of the eyes) were frightening, with no short and simpler versions like today. And one had to stay in the hospital for a few days before being discharged to go home. Maybe the same ‘don’ts’ and more were insisted on.</p>.<p>Some five years ago, I had a sudden attack of glaucoma — a bad thing to suffer from not only because of the pain, but because of the consequences, like impaired vision. It had been painful and worrying. I thanked god that I recovered from it without much of a problem, such as losing some of my eyesight. In fact, I had even forgotten about this episode when I went in for the recent check-up, until the doctor told me that his examination had thrown up this information.</p>.<p>Anyway, I wanted to have the cataract operation done soon and entered the theatre that Friday after a very light breakfast as advised. After donning the hospital gown and being administered drops for the eyes, I was wheeled into the operation theatre. I don’t think they gave me general anaesthesia, for all along I was conscious of the gentle words and questions, like “are you comfortable?”, that the kind doctor was asking me from time to time. And before I could bat an eyelid, so to say, “Yes, it is over,” said he. </p>.<p>It may have taken all of 30 to 35 minutes. I felt normal but didn’t like the “droppings”. The second eye was operated on a week later. It also seemed very simple and went off smoothly. One of our friends who had undergone this surgery had had a very tough time as it did not succeed. I only hope they could rectify it. Going through any operation just once is difficult enough, both from the physical and financial point of “view” — one wonders how the needy manage with their ailments.</p>.<p>It’s been a month since my operation, and the eye-drops will continue for at least another month. But I can’t complain, for the thought of being able to avoid having to wear glasses for reading and other tasks, is what makes me go on. </p>
<p>Did you ever have to have a bath with your eyes closed, ensuring that no water enters them? Certainly for a head bath, and especially for women, I keep wondering how it can be done without at least a drop slyly getting in. But yes, the instructions were very strict that I could only have a head bath without allowing water to enter my eyes.</p>.<p>When I went to the eye clinic for a routine check-up (it had been quite a while since the last one), and was told that sooner than later I should get the cataract operation done in both eyes, I was a little shocked. I didn’t think that anything was wrong or so bad with my eyes as to require any attention. I hate operations — who doesn’t? So many instructions and dos and don’ts to be followed with so many other precautions — in this case, no water must enter the eyes at all for ever so many days, and different drops must be given for at least two months!</p>.<p>Earlier, operations (especially of the eyes) were frightening, with no short and simpler versions like today. And one had to stay in the hospital for a few days before being discharged to go home. Maybe the same ‘don’ts’ and more were insisted on.</p>.<p>Some five years ago, I had a sudden attack of glaucoma — a bad thing to suffer from not only because of the pain, but because of the consequences, like impaired vision. It had been painful and worrying. I thanked god that I recovered from it without much of a problem, such as losing some of my eyesight. In fact, I had even forgotten about this episode when I went in for the recent check-up, until the doctor told me that his examination had thrown up this information.</p>.<p>Anyway, I wanted to have the cataract operation done soon and entered the theatre that Friday after a very light breakfast as advised. After donning the hospital gown and being administered drops for the eyes, I was wheeled into the operation theatre. I don’t think they gave me general anaesthesia, for all along I was conscious of the gentle words and questions, like “are you comfortable?”, that the kind doctor was asking me from time to time. And before I could bat an eyelid, so to say, “Yes, it is over,” said he. </p>.<p>It may have taken all of 30 to 35 minutes. I felt normal but didn’t like the “droppings”. The second eye was operated on a week later. It also seemed very simple and went off smoothly. One of our friends who had undergone this surgery had had a very tough time as it did not succeed. I only hope they could rectify it. Going through any operation just once is difficult enough, both from the physical and financial point of “view” — one wonders how the needy manage with their ailments.</p>.<p>It’s been a month since my operation, and the eye-drops will continue for at least another month. But I can’t complain, for the thought of being able to avoid having to wear glasses for reading and other tasks, is what makes me go on. </p>