I've Decided to Become a Babe

 Yes!  All because of cataract surgery, which I had yesterday and which was no walk in the park, all you friends who told me how easy it was.

First, they weighed me at 6 am in Outpatient Surgery--awful, depressing numbers.  Then I had to lie down on a very narrow eye-surgery gurney for two hours while a nurse prepped me, which included starting an IV of what she called "your breakfast," which was freezing cold electrolytes and God knows what else.  It felt like ice water shooting  up my arm. More awful.

View from the gurney during the endless prelims

Finally,  an anesthesiologist wheeled the gurney and me into a freezing cold operating room where--the best part--he popped something very soothing into my IV.  The doctor appeared, the same taciturn guy I've been consulting for years, but I didn't recognize him because he seemed to have dimples.  I thought he was in the wrong operating room, but then he spoke, and I recognized his voice, and besides, at that point I didn't care. 

Then--I do not exaggerate--he began doing battle with my right eye,  a lot of rough pushing and pulling, painless but very active, not the delicate maneuvering you might expect.  Twice he called for towels.  I began to wish the anesthesiologist would pop some more of that soothing stuff into my IV.

Then Dr. Gladiator said, "Perfect!" and taped something over my eye, and I was wheeled to Recovery.  Ginger ale, soothing talk from a nurse, Jerry appearing with my handbag, and it was over.  I could walk, hurray!

But when I got home, I took off the bandage, per instructions, and saw double.  Not only double, but everything I could see out of the surgical eye was blurred and tipping. I had three hours of wondering why in the hell I'd let myself be mauled like that, only to end up half-blind and seasick.

Then all that passed, the doctor called and reassured me, and I began to see as I haven't seen since I was a kid.  Wow!  I can see a crisp rendition of my face without glasses, and it's a revelation.  I'm no longer a Girl Who Wears Glasses.  Maybe I could be a babe after all.    I gave up on all that when I was 10 and the school nurse tested and re-tested my eyes and decided I was near-sighted.  But now--glamor, elusive for decades, feels within reach.  Sort of.

Is this how Caitlyn Jenner feels?  She's reveling in it.  Too bad we're both 65, although she has enough money to buy her way to semi-youth, and I do not.  But I actually look better than I expected when surveyed with my new sharpened vision.  All things considered.

Here's a picture of the pre-babe me at the hairdresser's last week:

And here's a picture of me today, post-surgery and two short nights:

Sans glasses:  With a little concealer and some eye make-up?  Definitely babe material?

 In the meantime, it's all about eye drops:

Distinctly unglamorous.