Jock Elliott
Hall of Famer
- Location
- Troy, NY
In March, my son and I were traveling when I noticed that I was having trouble reading the arrival/departure signs in the airport. I had to get really close to them and even then they were not razor sharp. A year ago, my ophthalmologist had warned that I had an “incipient” cataract in my left eye.
Soon after we got home, I scheduled an a appointment, and she was impressed with how much the cataract had grown. It had the effect of looking like a big greasy thumbprint on my glasses and also it messed up the diffraction so that the eyeglass prescription for that eye was no longer correct . . . a double-whammy.
Even worse, my left eye is my dominant eye. The vast majority of humans have one eye that is the “master” eye, and the brain uses information from the non-dominant eye to integrate with the dominant eye to give us binocular vision.
Three years ago, the good doctor had fixed my right (non-dominant) eye’s cataract with commendable results: 20/40 vision corrected.
Ten days ago, she did cataract surgery on my left eye. This involves making a small incision in the side of the eye near the lens, reaching in and removing the lens with the cataract, and sliding in a plastic lens that unfolds in the proper place inside the eye. This is done while the patient (me!) is awake, and it could be a very panicky experience except for some very interesting chemicals they were dripping into my arm that left me totally unconcerned with the activities of the medical team. There was some discomfort for 24 hours afterward but it was no big deal.
After care involves a protective shield over the eye for one week, and a series of eye drops for three weeks. Years ago, cataract surgery patients had to lie still for two weeks with their heads between sand bags, and there were problems with blood clots, etc., as a result.
Now the delightful surprise, my one-week check-up revealed that my naked left eye is now delivering 20/20 vision. I no longer have to wear glasses for anything except reading and close work. That means I can peer through the viewfinders of my cameras without glasses. What a treat! I wonder if my photography will improve now that I can see what I am doing . . .
Soon after we got home, I scheduled an a appointment, and she was impressed with how much the cataract had grown. It had the effect of looking like a big greasy thumbprint on my glasses and also it messed up the diffraction so that the eyeglass prescription for that eye was no longer correct . . . a double-whammy.
Even worse, my left eye is my dominant eye. The vast majority of humans have one eye that is the “master” eye, and the brain uses information from the non-dominant eye to integrate with the dominant eye to give us binocular vision.
Three years ago, the good doctor had fixed my right (non-dominant) eye’s cataract with commendable results: 20/40 vision corrected.
Ten days ago, she did cataract surgery on my left eye. This involves making a small incision in the side of the eye near the lens, reaching in and removing the lens with the cataract, and sliding in a plastic lens that unfolds in the proper place inside the eye. This is done while the patient (me!) is awake, and it could be a very panicky experience except for some very interesting chemicals they were dripping into my arm that left me totally unconcerned with the activities of the medical team. There was some discomfort for 24 hours afterward but it was no big deal.
After care involves a protective shield over the eye for one week, and a series of eye drops for three weeks. Years ago, cataract surgery patients had to lie still for two weeks with their heads between sand bags, and there were problems with blood clots, etc., as a result.
Now the delightful surprise, my one-week check-up revealed that my naked left eye is now delivering 20/20 vision. I no longer have to wear glasses for anything except reading and close work. That means I can peer through the viewfinders of my cameras without glasses. What a treat! I wonder if my photography will improve now that I can see what I am doing . . .
