I took a friend to the doctor to get cataract surgery.  Twice in the last month or so, actually.  I thought she was pretty young to have cataracts, but I discovered that it’s not just an old-person’s disease.

I don’t know what cataract surgery consists of, and I don’t really want to know.  The reason this topic made the Whimsical Wednesday lineup relates to what happens after the surgery.

Cataract surgery is done on an out-patient basis.  It takes longer sitting around in the waiting room than it does to do the surgery.  However, the physicians do use some type of anesthesia before and during the procedure.  I don’t think it’s the same type of anesthesia they use for removing an appendix, for instance, because the patient “wakes up” quite quickly after the operation.

I put “wakes up” in quotes because my friend seemed to be in a place somewhere in between being normal and being totally anesthetized.  After our second trip, I finally came up with a theory about how this particular anesthesia works. 

My theory is that the drugs wipe out short-term memory about every 15-20 minutes.  You can only imagine what it’s like being with someone who “wakes up” again about every 15 minutes.  It’s better than a comedy club.

The first time, she was amazed by someone who was coming out of surgery as she was going in who was snoring.  She told me that story multiple times on the way back to her house.  The second time, she was chuckling over someone who wouldn’t wake up and the trouble the nurses had getting him to come to. 

I counted the second time.  She told me that story 5 times on the way home.  Each time, with the enthusiasm of someone who had just remembered a funny story.

She wanted to call her husband right after we left the doctor’s office to tell him she was OK.  About a half-hour later, she “remembered” that she wanted to call her husband.  I said “Well, we did call him, but we can do it again if you’d like”.  After a few minutes of deep thought, she asked “Did I talk to him?” 

The first time she wanted a McDonald’s hamburger after her long fast since the night before.  That would make sense, except that she hates McDonald’s hamburgers.  The second time, she was craving real food.  I wasn’t excited about steering her into a restaurant, but it was off-peak hours, so I decided to give it a try.

After a couple minutes of sitting at a table, she decided that she’d just like to take some food to go.  While I was arranging for a carry-out, she wandered over to the bakery counter in the restaurant.  I tried to talk her out of it, but she ended up ordering 3 deserts, then I had to go pay for the carry out.  By the time we got back to her house, I discovered she’d actually purchased five deserts.

Opening the box after finishing a sandwich, she declared that “we should just eat all of these”.  I convinced her that eating 2.5 deserts at that point wouldn’t be the best idea.

Afterward, I put drops in her eyes, and tucked her into bed.  She slept late into the evening.

My friend apologized for needing to ask me to take her to the second appointment. . . . but I told her I wouldn’t miss it for the world.