Gotta go back to the big town about 50 miles away for the one-week checkup on last week’s eye surgery.
This one has gone a helluva lot better than the first, so much better I could actually get through life without prescription glasses if I had to. Right now I’m juggling three different pair: Two dollar-store reading glasses and some neato the-oughts-want-their-sunglasses-back colored wraparounds that GC Guy gave me. As a lifelong wearer of coke-bottle-bottom glasses, I have never owned a pair of Joe-cool shades. So being able to navigate without any more lenses than the ones implanted in my upgraded 21st century eyeballs – plus the fact that without the cataracts the sunlight is too damn bright – is quite a treat for the eternally uncool old fart.
Alas when I need to shoot a gun or do a lot of other things I’m back to juggling various pairs of reading glasses, so I really do need to put Joe Cool aside and get some new bifocals. I’m hoping, but not very seriously, that today the ophthalmologist will declare me healed and send me to the optometrist for a new prescription. This business of bopping off to the big town every week or so is really wearing on my nerves.