THE EYE OF AN EAGLE

I had laser surgery on my left eye this morning to take care of a clouding problem from one of my cataract surgeries a year or so ago.  The doctor told me the clouding or scarring or whatever happens in about 35 to 50 percent of his cases.  So he just zaps the stuff away with a laser.  Takes about a minute and in a couple of hours, once the dilation goes down, you can see again.

I had to be at the doctor's office at 7:30 this morning.  I left home about 7 and was doing great until I got there.  "There" was no longer the doctor's office.  There was a big sign saying it was a Detox Center now but when I looked through the glass door it appeared to be still under remodeling.  No one anywhere.

So I called SWMBO.  She was asleep and didn't hear the phone.  I left a message that said, in an aggravated tone, "I don't know where the hell I'm supposed to be!"

Then I called the BRD.  I told her what my problem was but in my panic at being late and maybe having the surgery canceled, I couldn't remember my doctor's name.  I've been seeing him for years but I was suddenly having instant Alzheimer's syndrome.  The BRD started through the yellow pages, looking for eye doctors.  After a bit of fumbling on both our parts, I remembered his last name.  She found it and said his office was clear up in the north part of town.  I was pretty much in the Central part.  I thanked her and took off, faster than I should have, but keeping a wary eye (the good one) out for police cars.

Then I called her back and got the telephone number of the doc's office.  When I called it a recording said the office wasn't open but if I had an eye emergency I could call a different number.  By this time, my supply of expletives was running out.  But I called the other number, got an answering service, explained my problem and asked her to try to reach the office and tell them I was on my way.  She put me on eternal hold but finally came back and said she had delivered the message.

When I got to the area where the doc's office was located, I found a huge office park.  Each building looked like the other and I had forgotten the address.  So I called the BRD back and got the number and finally found the office.

Somewhat relieved, I got out of my car, went to the door and . . . it was locked!  I saw a sidewalk going around the end of the building, took it and found a window with a young woman behind it.  I knocked on her window, pointed at my eye and she opened up to tell me that my surgery would take place in an adjacent building.

I found it and went in, noting the name on the door: Stillwater Surgical Suite.

They were waiting for me and when I apologized for being late the nurse said, "no problem" the doctor was in surgery.

When I finally got to see the doctor, I asked him if he was from Minnesota.  He said he wasn't.  I told him in Minnesota, Stillwater is a town where the state prison is located.  He laughed and said, "No, no Freudian slip."

I was told by one of the other patients in the lobby that the doctor had moved his practice about a year ago to these new digs.  But I usually see him in consulting offices in my town, which is about eight miles away.  I hadn't been to Prescott to have surgery for over a year.  

Well that was hours ago now.  I can see nearly perfectly out of both of my eyes now and life is good once again.