Still looking at you!
modern miracles - a public service share
August 28, 2023, a day smoky from wildfires in the BC interior, I have cataract surgery on my right eye in Sechelt hospital. On Sept. 11 the same surgery will be performed on my left eye. Contrary to what I had thought, cataract surgery doesn’t peel the cloudy cataract off the lens of your eye but replaces the lens with an implant. How is this possible, I ask myself?
These surgeries are undertaken to resolve “acute angle closure glaucoma”, a condition which can lead to sudden and irreversible blindness, if untreated. There is too narrow an angle between iris and cornea for fluid to pass freely causing a build up of pressure which can suddenly compromise the optic nerve.
This condition can be routinely tested for by optometrists when you get your eyes checked but in all my years of wearing glasses only one optometrist, Dr. Sonja Hagemann at Wink Optometry in Calgary, has ever done so. It was her referral which likely saved my vision.
My mother had this condition (before surgery and drugs were available to treat it). I met her opthamologist, a humorous Irishman who was a specialist in Calgary. He examined me once, not letting on why I was in his chair, “we must stop meeting like this” he wisecracked. At that time, in my thirties, I wore contact lenses and asked him about eye surgery. “If I thought it would work for me, do you think I would still be wearing these?”, he quipped, pointing at his coke bottle lenses. Eye surgery was in its infancy, and not recommended for those with “my situation”: long sighted, and with astigmatism.
Each of us encounters a bodily irregularity, disease, injury which must be medically treated; few walk through life unscathed. My glaucoma has brought with it a wave of gratitude for the opportunity to be treated in a way which likely saved my sight, since my glaucoma is really pretty serious. Bravo to Dr. Hagemann, Dr. Kraucamp my surgeon, nurses, attendants, and to the researchers and medical pioneers who developed this procedure. Also to our healthcare system which provided it free of charge, to me, the grateful recipient of this miracle. In these days of environmental crisis and war it’s easy to forget how far we humans have come in solving many problems, especially in the fields of medicine.
There have been existential realizations associated with this experience. I discovered that I am extremely far sighted, off the scale. I never knew this. This long vision would have served me well were I a sailor, or a shepherd, or a Masai in the velds of Africa. Had I not needed glasses to see roots on the trail, and navigate up and down slopes, it would have served me well in my mountain rambles without glasses.
In the weeks leading up to surgery I observe this far vision, wonder if I will miss it when it’s gone. I am told the newly implanted lenses will correct some of my mid and near vision weakness at the expense of this extraordinary far sightedness. I peer at the ocean and far hills around Sechelt without glasses and it’s true, they are clear as a bell. what a revelation.
I lie beneath a sheet, somewhat reminiscent of a shroud, my head swathed except for the eye. I am awake as anaesthetic eye drops are administered. I am told to focus on three moving lights. As Dr. Kraukamp shatters, then suctions tiny fragment of my right lens the lights become unfocused pink, turquoise and yellow swirling shapes.Psychedelic. I try to be still as a mouse beneath the hospital sheeting; I have a squeaky ball in my hand in case I need them to stop (to sneeze, cough, or other bodily functions I imagine with horror). Dr. Kraucamp inserts the new lens, I hear murmurs of approval amongst the commentary in the OR; the operation is a success.
I use arnica homeopathic remedy after surgery and need no pain medicine. There is little swelling and no bloody tears, (which I had been warned to possibly expect). This is another miracle I am grateful for—the unbroken lineage of healers who collectively hold such a treasure trove of knowledge remedies and treatments: tribal healers, wise women, medicine men, shamans, herbalists, homeopaths, naturopaths, acupuncturists and good old witches, who have cared for humans since time immemorial.
Each day the vision in my right eye changes as it tries to settle on a final field of view. I was told I may still need reading glasses but so far my close up vision is remarkable. The mid range shifts day to day. Is it influenced by what I am doing I wonder? What I am looking at? What I am thinking?
On September 11 the lens in my left eye is replaced. Again the surgery goes well. It’s still hard to tell what the final result will be as my brain is still adjusting but it seems likely I will no longer need glasses.
Is our eyesight linked to our personality? Before glasses were invented, did myopic individuals stay close to home, work on handwork and crafts with detail and precision? Did they chafe at their limitation? Did souls with far vision feel the restless urge to travel and explore?
My grandfather, Byron Harmon, was a photographer who, (I suspect), had vision similar to mine. He photographed mountains landscapes, and people within these landscapes. He didn’t wear glasses. When questioned by Dad one day as to why he was trying to kill the flies on the outside of the window with his fly swatter he replied, “well, I stun their legs and they fall down and break their necks.”
I have a way of thinking which considers the long and wide view, looks for unusual connections and consequences which are not linear. Is this in part because I was born far-sighted? Yet my favourite photographic subjects are close-ups.
A friend sent me a wonderful wish for this surgery, “may you see what you’ve always wished to see with your new eyes”. Another wrote, “may you see with your heart”.
I forward these wishes on to you.
Thank you thank you!
Thanks for giving us the inside view! I loved seeing these extraordinary wide photographs, contrasted with the close ups. The ayes have it! may your autumn be graced with visions of the loveliness of this ephemeral world.