Fear is one of those things that weigh heavily on our minds, even if it is probably unwarranted. I remember the first time I had cataract surgery; I was so relieved that my vision issues could be corrected that I was elated. I looked forward to the experience.
Let me back up and explain my circumstances. I was driving from Dallas to Houston to provide some kind of training for a group in a single parent family program. At some point during my commute, I winked or shut one eye briefly and discovered I had no vision in the other eye. It was a total blackout out.
That discovery activated a high level of fear for me. I can be so dramatic in my thought processes. I knew immediately that I had a brain tumor. It never occurred to me that a cataract could cause blindness in one eye.
The next morning, as I made my way to the location where I was to provide training, my first priority was to telephone my eye doctor. He requested that I come for an afternoon appointment. Consequently, I cancelled the training and headed for Austin. Subsequently, being told that I had a cataract was the best news I could imagine.
A neighbor recently had cataract surgery and for at least two months prior to his surgery he was terrified. From my standpoint, his fears were not justified, but I could not be persuasive enough in sharing my experience to dismiss his anxiety.
I remember when the General had cataract surgery. For years her eyeglasses were as thick as the bottom of a coke bottle. She figuratively couldn't get out of bed without having her glasses. Cataract implants had improved significantly since I had mine and reportedly, she would no longer need glasses.
From her advantage, the surgery was a miracle. The General had worn glasses since the fourth grade. I'm not sure how large the selection of frames was during her childhood, but I've had extensive experience accompanying her to shop for glasses. I know that people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, but she was worse than I am.
Historically, she considered all the options before selecting what she wanted. Did I mention that she never looked at the price on any set of frames before deciding? I guess some folks would call it accessorizing without regard to cost. She wanted frames that were…"Is subtly ostentatious a descriptive phrase?" She didn't want to call attention to herself, but she wanted the outlook (how's that for describing a set of frames) of a power broker. She is a woman confident of her ability and it is never challenged because she always presents herself as though failure is not an option.
Oh the stories I could tell. The first selection of frames was just the beginning. The first time she talked me into going with her to pick out glasses, I was dumbfounded by the experience. I'm a simple guy. When she picked out the frames for her new glasses, I thought we were done. In reality, we had only just begun.
First came the regular (subtly ostentatious & expensive) pair of glasses. The next selection of frames was for prescription sunglasses. They, too, are subtly ostentatious and expensive. I know what you're thinking. Trust me, I suggested "clip-ons" and you would have thought she'd just discovered a character flaw (mine – not hers).
Three strikes and you're out. Three sets of frames and you could be a candidate for needing a second mortgage on your home. I get it, I really do. Of course, she had to have a special pair of glasses to wear while she's sitting at the computer. "Are you kidding me?" "Absolutely not; nothing but the truth, the whole truth, so help me God." She bought three sets of glasses at one time.
Following her first cataract surgery two weeks before her second one, she thought it had been a mistake. Initially, she could not see all that well. At least that was her story, but she was still able to decipher the credit card bill without difficulty. She never looks at the total of the bill without scrutinizing every line and comparing it with a stack of receipts. God help me if she doesn't have all the receipts.
I can truthfully say that the General having cataract surgery (the most expensive kind that well exceed what insurance would cover) was a bargain. It negated the need for eyeglasses, except for inexpensive readers.
She purchased her first pair of readers before she could really see clearly. Of all places, we were in the grocery store. She picked up a pair of purple readers (glasses) and put them on. She asked me, "How do these look?" What was I supposed to say? "Stunning" would have been a little over the top. It also would have been anything but the truth.
So here's the deal, the glasses looked like a $4 pair of readers, but "give me liberty or give me death", I wasn't going to say that to her. "Oh, they look fine", was the only thing I could think to say.
I took the glasses from her, put them in grocery basket, and headed toward the back of the store to get milk. When I returned, she was still looking at readers. By now she had two other sets for me to see. "Which do you think would look better on me?" "Why ask me?" The obvious answer is that she asked me because she couldn't see. I suggested she buy all three. Instead, she settled on the purple ones.
Well, she's come a long way since them. If you don't believe me, come over and play of game of "I spy". I bet you can locate a set of readers somewhere in every room. It makes me crazy.
All My Best!
Don
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