Monday the 27th of March was a day I won’t forget in a hurry. It was the long awaited day of my eye operation, I’ve had ops before but for some reason I was feeling nervous and couldn’t really pinpoint why. I had to be at the hospital at 7.30am and after checking in at the ward reception I was shown to my bed by the nurse looking after me, the gods must have favoured me because she was a pretty nurse from Thailand.
Soon after the specialist arrived and wanted a quick look at my eyes prior to the operation, he seemed excited and in a way so was I, though a nervous excitement. Anything that was going to make me look better had to be a good thing, besides that, my eye was in such a state I had nothing to lose, so the optimistic side of me said. The specialist (an eternally smiling Indian guy with a long name) said things should go well but then his smile broke and he stressed if things went wrong then the eye would have to be removed and replaced with a prosthetic one, at this point I began to shudder. Returning to my bed I was soon joined by the anaesthetist who said the operation was going to be done under local anaesthetic but I could still have a general one if I insisted, I said ideally I’d prefer general but the specialist said local would be better and I was going along with that.
Time flew and it was time for the operation, I was taken to the hi-tech operating theatre and a needle was put in the back of my hand and another sunk into my eye, the hand needle was fine but the eye one was quite painful for about 30 seconds. I presumed the needle and plastic applet in the back of my hand was for if things went wrong and they had to put me under swiftly. As the anaesthetic took grip I feel a drowsy but fully aware of happenings around me, leaning over me the anaesthetist added ‘you may feel some plucking and picking sensations but no pain’ – oh great I thought.
On the operating table I was placed under a frame, over which a green canvas was draped, it reminded me of my childhood and making tents using furniture and blankets, I was trying hard to think about anything but the operation, trying desperately to drift away. The green canvas had a hole in it that was affixed around my left eye, an eye which now felt frozen and dead to the world; meanwhile an oxygen tube was inserted under the canvas covered frame so I could breathe. My head was in a kind of horse shoe shaped and very uncomfortable vice like pillow, the operation began. By now I was feeling vague and detached, trying hard to think of other things, grasping at any other subjects to occupy my mind. I thought of other people a lot, how much I cared for them and what they meant to me, it was all a bit emotional and surreal I guess. Oddly I could feel things happening but not with any pain, I heard the doc say he was scraping some calcium deposits away and it felt like my eye was a stone being scraped by a knife. I shuddered slightly as he kept asking for needles and other implements/apparatus that had strange medical terminology and duly used them on my eye. The only thing I felt was when he asked a nurse to rinse the eye and the odd droplet seeped through onto my cheek bone.
Then the worse bit came, the doc said ‘Would you like to listen to some music? We usually have music on to make the patients feel better’
‘Sure’ I said, still feeling dreamy
Then it began, the worse pain, the song being ‘The road to Amarillo’ followed by a plethora of countless other cheesy songs, it made whole experience seem longer.
I think the operation took about 50 minutes, halfway through the doc said ‘it’s going really well’ which made me feel more upbeat and reassured. The whole thing was filmed as it was the first time they’d used this particular fluid to tattoo a cornea, I’d always wanted to be on film but not this way!
So, here I am, back at home after my ordeal, things went ok and now I can at least say I have a tattooed eye, just as well they didn’t tattoo my good eye ( I really would have been up the creek without a paddle then!). My eye is still very red and quite tender and sore but it does look a lot better, how we hobbits have these trips of vanity!
I’d like to thank Dr Mahajaran and his team at Queens Medical, Nottingham for his expertise, support and giving me a chance when others seemed less interested.
I’d also like to thank my friends and family out there who were veritable towers of strength with their words of love and encouragement.
Soon after the specialist arrived and wanted a quick look at my eyes prior to the operation, he seemed excited and in a way so was I, though a nervous excitement. Anything that was going to make me look better had to be a good thing, besides that, my eye was in such a state I had nothing to lose, so the optimistic side of me said. The specialist (an eternally smiling Indian guy with a long name) said things should go well but then his smile broke and he stressed if things went wrong then the eye would have to be removed and replaced with a prosthetic one, at this point I began to shudder. Returning to my bed I was soon joined by the anaesthetist who said the operation was going to be done under local anaesthetic but I could still have a general one if I insisted, I said ideally I’d prefer general but the specialist said local would be better and I was going along with that.
Time flew and it was time for the operation, I was taken to the hi-tech operating theatre and a needle was put in the back of my hand and another sunk into my eye, the hand needle was fine but the eye one was quite painful for about 30 seconds. I presumed the needle and plastic applet in the back of my hand was for if things went wrong and they had to put me under swiftly. As the anaesthetic took grip I feel a drowsy but fully aware of happenings around me, leaning over me the anaesthetist added ‘you may feel some plucking and picking sensations but no pain’ – oh great I thought.
On the operating table I was placed under a frame, over which a green canvas was draped, it reminded me of my childhood and making tents using furniture and blankets, I was trying hard to think about anything but the operation, trying desperately to drift away. The green canvas had a hole in it that was affixed around my left eye, an eye which now felt frozen and dead to the world; meanwhile an oxygen tube was inserted under the canvas covered frame so I could breathe. My head was in a kind of horse shoe shaped and very uncomfortable vice like pillow, the operation began. By now I was feeling vague and detached, trying hard to think of other things, grasping at any other subjects to occupy my mind. I thought of other people a lot, how much I cared for them and what they meant to me, it was all a bit emotional and surreal I guess. Oddly I could feel things happening but not with any pain, I heard the doc say he was scraping some calcium deposits away and it felt like my eye was a stone being scraped by a knife. I shuddered slightly as he kept asking for needles and other implements/apparatus that had strange medical terminology and duly used them on my eye. The only thing I felt was when he asked a nurse to rinse the eye and the odd droplet seeped through onto my cheek bone.
Then the worse bit came, the doc said ‘Would you like to listen to some music? We usually have music on to make the patients feel better’
‘Sure’ I said, still feeling dreamy
Then it began, the worse pain, the song being ‘The road to Amarillo’ followed by a plethora of countless other cheesy songs, it made whole experience seem longer.
I think the operation took about 50 minutes, halfway through the doc said ‘it’s going really well’ which made me feel more upbeat and reassured. The whole thing was filmed as it was the first time they’d used this particular fluid to tattoo a cornea, I’d always wanted to be on film but not this way!
So, here I am, back at home after my ordeal, things went ok and now I can at least say I have a tattooed eye, just as well they didn’t tattoo my good eye ( I really would have been up the creek without a paddle then!). My eye is still very red and quite tender and sore but it does look a lot better, how we hobbits have these trips of vanity!
I’d like to thank Dr Mahajaran and his team at Queens Medical, Nottingham for his expertise, support and giving me a chance when others seemed less interested.
I’d also like to thank my friends and family out there who were veritable towers of strength with their words of love and encouragement.
