All Psyched Up: You just gotta laugh!

By Dr. Linda Hancock on February 22, 2025.

I have waited for over a year to have cataract surgery. My eyes were too dry so after trying drops, my optometrist bumped up the dosage. That didn’t work and so the surgeon decided to draw blood from my arm, have it spun into drops, and I used these for several weeks. Finally, after months of trying to improve my condition, I found out that the eyes had deteriorated, dried and were in a shape that would not do well with the lenses we had initially chosen.

So, after three cancelled surgery dates, we agreed to proceed with lenses that would provide me with the opposite vision to what I had experienced for years. I was quoted about $800.00 for a lens that would provide me with distance but also required glasses for close work and computer. The quote was low!

Off to the pharmacy for three prescriptions that would be used post-surgery. Then arrangements for a driver to take me to the surgery hospital and subsequent appointment in the surgeon’s clinic later in the day.

We arrived at the hospital long before the sun rose, a situation which had caused my daughter to be woken in what seemed like the middle of the night. After telling them my name, date of birth and which eye was to be treated, (all of which was on the paper in front of the registration clerk), two labels were placed on my top – one with my name (again) and the other with my drug allergy. I had to lean over the counter to have my temperature taken by a machine aimed at my third eye and to have an X drawn over the left eye with a marker (took a couple of days to remove that one).

Then I was given a mask to wear and directed to a numbered row of chairs. I noticed that there were ten rows of about eight chairs. This was going to be a busy day for the health system!

A nurse with a tray went to each person and repeated exactly the same thing. “I am going to put drops in your eye. Look at the ceiling. Pull down your lower lid. Don’t open you eyes until I come back to you again”. Over and over and over again I listened to the same message.

The nurse did this three times to each patient (five times to me for my right eye). Then, after waiting for what seemed forever, each of us was called and taken into the next room. I chuckled when a man asked, “Can I open my eyes while I am walking?” (He was allowed this).

The next room had twelve dentist-like chairs for patients which were across from four desks, each of which had a professional staring at us. Someone came and put a gauze cap on my head, a thing on the finger to measure oxygen and a blood pressure cuff after asking (again) for a name, date of birth and identification of the eye which was to be treated.

My blood pressure was apparently too high so something quite powerful was squirted under my tongue. It tasted horrible but I was told not to swallow for five minutes. My second blood pressure rating was high again but “Good enough” according to the respiratory therapist.

So here I was, sitting with a group of people I had never seen before, with a mask, gauze cap, forehead X, oxygen thing on the finger and blood pressure cuff. (I just couldn’t help but giggle even though I was trying hard not to swallow the horrible stuff under my tongue).

Next was the hallway chair which was filled with stored equipment and a machine for the surgeon to look into my eyes one more time. Because I was kind of loopy, he took me by the arm, like a prom escort and walked me to the operating room where he introduced his wonderful team!

The next twenty minutes were kind of like going through a car wash. Coloured lights similar to soap flashed on the ceiling where I was required to stare. I could talk (sometimes) but had trouble putting words into a sentence.

Finally, a nurse took me to a different chair in the hallway where I waited for her to finish some tasks. Then to the front for apple juice and crackers. I had made a complete loop and ended up at the same place where I had entered.

I later found out that my surgeon is very slow and careful. (He only does 17 of these plus a couple of other surgeries in a day). He laughed when I stated that this process was like a “sausage making factory.”

The first week I felt like I was tumbling – because now the left eye could see distance and the right eye close work only. Friday, I had the right eye done and managed to enjoy the adventure again with a little laughter!

Here’s the good news. I can see – distance only. It will be six weeks of healing before I can get my new glasses. And I never need to have this done again – a lifetime fix! And they still want the eyes that I have included in my Organ Donation commitment.

It was interesting but I am glad that I am done.

Here’s looking at you!

PS: Can hardly wait for my colonoscopy!

Dr. Linda Hancock, the author of “Life is An Adventure…every step of the way” and “Open for Business Success” is a Registered Psychologist who has a private practice in Calgary. She can be reached by email at office@drlindahancock.com

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