posted on Monday, July 16, 2007 7:31 AM
by
Endie
Recovery
I have not, despite the efforts of my cornea to the contrary, gone blind. I am banned from wearing contacts for weeks, though. Glasses reveal just how many bits of my face and ears have been broken by rugby, and they don't work well, forcing me to peer at things. Headaches are, I suppose, a manageable consequence. My vanity hurts worse than my head.
The specialist is a tiny, Chinese man who, by coincidence, looks and sounds not altogether unlike the eye doctor in Bladerunner. True dialogue:
Doctor: Mr Harrison, you are a very vain man.
Me: I beg your pardon?
Doctor: Your contact lenses, they make you look good...
Me: Thank-you
Doctor: ...and they are good for your sports, good for your rugby...
Me: How do you know I play rugby? [he had not seen my medical records, packed with rugby injuries, yet]
Doctor: Mr Harrison, I am a doctor. I am an eye doctor. I look around your eyes, I see many cuts. I see you play rugby.
If only he had had a wispy, white beard to stroke at this point, I would have been utterly impressed. I imagine that he finds that patients like and are reassured by his Confucian wise man persona.
On the Renton (my cat) front, the situation is improving, although it is too early to tell how well he will respond to treatment in the medium term. He has only a tiny fraction of the red blood cells he should (I saw his figures, and they were literally off the chart), probably because he is generating antibodies to his own red blood cells. Either that or a blood-borne parasite. So he's on a big dose of steroids and is also on antibiotics.
Oh, and insure your pets: I may consider 750 quid/1500 dollars extremely good value for saving my ten-year-old cat but not everyone has that option!