Cataracts in 2020s

I saw a headline saying that one out of eight women are abused by being shouted at, scolded, or ignored during childbirth and I totally believe that. There are a lot of people in the medical profession that don’t belong there. One time, when they were going to put me to sleep for one of my ear surgeries in Boston, a nurse went off on me for “fighting” them when it came to that yucky gas mask I hated so much and I was just a kid. Even psychiatric hospitals have workers that don’t belong in them.

We love our new electronic nail clippers! Now we just have to figure out how to open the door to empty the clippings out.

I haven’t used the new wax hair removal strips yet.

I was so tired yesterday (and today) that I forgot to say that the eye doctor said I wasn’t a good candidate for Lasik because of my “position” in life which was so damn silly. Everybody’s so fucking sensitive these days that people are afraid that what they say might offend others but I assured him it was okay to refer to me as older or getting old. I don’t understand why so many normal facts of life are considered such taboo subjects.

Anyway, due to my age and being farsighted, I’m not a good candidate. He explained why but I don’t remember what he said. Something about there only being so much curving of the cornea they can do. But there is some good news. I never thought I would say this but I can’t wait to have cataract surgery! His cataracts are more advanced because he’s older and will need to be removed in about a year or two. I didn’t know this but having them removed greatly improves vision. So much so that some people don’t even need glasses anymore. I would love that! The problem is that I’m likely a decade or more away from needing this.

Because of Tom’s “crying” eye, the doctor said he could check into getting the tear duct cleared and possibly lifting his eyelids because they’re drooping which can obstruct vision.

My own drainage system is blocked but in a different way and it’s what’s causing my OH to be elevated. I looked it up, and 29 is moderate while 32 is severe.

I cut waiting time on the 3rd and 4th after having a couple of days where I felt a little wired and like I might be getting close to borderline anxious. I didn’t feel that way yesterday, although my heart pounded because I was active while tired. I wonder if having more thyroid in me could be the cause of why I’m up for 18 hours more often these days but I don’t know. I’m going to start keeping track of that on my calendar and see if I see a pattern.

My biggest concern right now is all the fatigue I’ve been having. It’s so bad so often. Tom says he doubts the sleep apnea is causing it because he believes I would have tolerated the mask if I really needed it, but I disagree. More than half the people can’t tolerate it, and it isn’t that they don’t need it. I hope to hell he’s wrong because if it isn’t the sleep apnea causing my fatigue, that doesn’t leave many other possibilities and what it does leave is rather grim. It would likely mean I’ve either got something going on that we don’t know about, or more likely, I have chronic fatigue.

Yesterday I realized I hadn’t snored myself awake in a while and wondered if that was because I stopped snoring or was no longer flipping onto my back in my sleep. But then last night I woke myself up snoring, and yes, I was on my back.

Got a bunch of dreams to catch up on. There was one dream where I had cleaned the honker’s house in the past and was thinking of messaging him to ask if he wanted it cleaned that day.

In another dream, I was telling the honker I missed the West.

Then there was one where Scot and I were FB friends.

Then there was a quick dream about a doctor inspecting my legs, and being a tween or teen and skipping school. Only my real father wasn’t my father. Instead, it was a violent drunk who was asleep, and I dreaded what he might do if he woke up and caught me playing hooky.

In the last dream, we were house-sitting for Mary (Miss Perfect) and Dave. The house was filthy, cluttered and smelly.

Tom slept on their bed which was a full-wave waterbed and I slept on their lumpy couch. After a horrible night’s sleeping on something so uncomfortable, I lay down on the water bed and found it to be luxuriously comfortable. The water swished back and forth longer than I remembered my old one to do after I stilled myself. Instead of being annoyed, however, it gently rocked me to sleep.

Then I was hungry, but there was no food in the house.

“She doesn’t cook her own food,” Tom told me, and I remembered how much of a McDonald’s queen she always was. Wonder if she still is in real life.

Then I discovered ants running around the place for the second time and shouted from the bedroom to Tom in the other room that I didn’t think I could stand to stay there much longer.

He came running in and said, “Shh… They’re home early because Mary broke her arm.”

I stepped up to the doorway and looked into the living room. Sure enough, Mary was standing only a few yards beyond the door talking to Dave and I worried that she may have heard me.