My dad had a cataract surgery in one of his eyes today. It’s a short, routine procedure that’s under local anaesthetic so what’s the worry, right? The main fear of surgeries is never waking up again from general anaesthetic. Yet, there was palpable anxiety from all of us in the family, me included. What if things went wrong?
Experiencing the other side as a ‘patient’s relative’ was humbling and maybe also exactly what I expected too. For a procedure taking about 30 minutes in total, from start to finish, we were there for 6 hours. Yes, it was free and yes, it was complication-free (so far, touch wood) for which I am grateful. But, there wasn’t much kindness towards us today. From being greeted at reception coldly to not being allowed to go in to see him afterwards ‘because it’s too busy’, it felt like we’d turned up on the wrong day to the wrong place. The hospital was one of the nicest NHS hospitals I’ve ever seen – no complaints about the decor or cleanliness, but kindness and warmth from people were lacking today in our experience.
It made me really think all the times I’ve spoken to patients and their relatives as a doctor, and I feel I do try to be kind and empathetic, but I know there’s not always time for it. I’ve never denied a relative a chance to visit, even if it’s ‘too busy’ or the ‘wrong time’, and I will continue to do this, even if it goes ‘against policy’. It isn’t the right thing to do. It isn’t the best thing for the patient.
Another point of reflection was about vision. Eyes. Sight. My dad came out wearing an eye patch and tape over his eye, like a battle wound was covered up. Luckily we were there to drive him home, read the medication instructions and give these. It did make me feel for those who didn’t have family or friends to do this for those out of surgery. Without vision, the world is very difficult and very different. Do we look after our eyes? I don’t. Not as much as I know I could. Using screens all day long to work and not to work while not using the 20-20-20 rule is probably killing my eyes slowly. I do try to eat a healthy diet and I don’t smoke, so that’s something at least. And I don’t itch my eyes as much as I used to – they do look less red than before. I’m getting better at contact lens hygiene too, and wearing those less and less too. I’m prioritising my sleep a bit more too. So hopefully that’ll help. I should go out in the sun more though, apparently a bit of that helps too.
My experience of the world would be so subdued without my vision. I want to be more grateful for what I see. For seeing. I remember the first time I tried on contact lenses, and I could see completely clearly, I cried. I was 12 years old. The optician’s room was just so beautiful. The colours were so vivid. The world looked so rich and full of life. I still occasionally feel like this when I put my contacts on. I feel free. I’m seeing the world in HD. 4k even. Most of the time now I’m just furiously wiping my glasses lenses with my t shirt I’ve worn all day and wondering why they’re not clean.
Being an eye surgeon and gifting people their sight must be magical. Must be impossible to train as one because who wants someone who isn’t an experienced expert operating on their eye? That’s one specialty I have a lot of respect for. But it’s not for me. Too many micro movements.
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