A few years ago a local television station did a feature on a man who was legally blind. He had caught their attention when he joined a search for a neighbor who had been missing for over a week, mounting a 4-wheeler and scouring rugged terrain searching for a body. A young and very attractive reporter sat across a table interviewing the man and she finally asked the question that had been on my mind.
"So, how does a blind man such as yourself search for someone?"
He took a breath and smiled, looking her straight in the eye, and responded, "Well, I'm legally blind with 20/100 vision but I can still see blurry images. Take you for example. If you were sitting over there completely naked, I could tell you were naked. I just wouldn't get the full effect."
I fell out of my chair laughing. That man must surely be kin to me for I could see myself saying something stupid like that. Now, I told you that story to tell you this one:
I had cataract surgery last week. Everyone said it was no big deal. Wham Bamm and it's over. Liars, every damn one of them.
I showed up on time that morning and seated myself in a small crowded waiting room where a dozen or so other victims sat nervously waiting. One by one they disappeared behind a wooden door, escorted by a ravishingly beautiful blonde woman wearing bright blue scrubs. Finally, she appeared at the door and called my name, pointing to a small restroom just a few steps past the wooden door. She instructed me to remove my shirt and don one of those infamous backless hospital gowns. I spent fifteen minutes trying in vain to tie the thing behind my back when a knock came at the door.
"Are we doing alright in there? Do you need me to tie your gown?"
Well, this affair was starting out nicely, I thought as the nurse tied my strings much like a kindergarten teacher might do. She then led me to a staging area, telling me to make myself comfortable in a recliner of sorts, where a barrage of blonde nurses swarmed toward me.
" Do you have any dentures or partials that you need to remove before surgery? Are you wearing any contact lenses?"
Well, I put one in my good eye this morning so I could see to drive up here."
"You drove yourself to surgery? Take the contact out. Did you bring some glasses to wear?"
"No," I shook my head, "the last pair of glasses I bought was back in nineteen-ninety something. I still put them on when I go pee in the middle of the night. Never know when there might be s scorpion lurking about."
I obediently removed the contact and placed it in the container I had remembered to thrust into the pocket of my jeans just in case. And that's when everything went fuzzy. Another blonde nurse approached me, seating herself on a stool beside the recliner. She was close enough that I could tell she was even more attractive than the nurse that had tied my strings. Informing me that she would be putting a variety of crops in my eye, she reached toward me, digging her fake and very sharp fingernail into my eyelid. I let a whimper escape as she flooded my eye with one drop after another.
"Now I am going to place an IV in your hand for the anesthesiologist You might feel a little sting."
I let out another whimper which turned into a yelp as I felt her twirling the needle beneath my skin, trying to hit a vein.
"Nope, we will have to try again," she said as she again jabbed the needle into my hand. I screamed in agony and began kicking my legs as she floundered again with a needle buried deep in my flesh.
"There, all done. You can quit your kicking and screaming now. They will come and get you for surgery shortly." she muttered sarcastically as she rose and sauntered away.
I sat in my recliner and surveyed my surroundings, futile to say the least with my contact in my pocket. There were at least twenty nurses scurrying around, all wearing bright blue scrubs, all 5'2", all one hundred twenty pounds, and all with long blonde hair. I found myself utterly frustrated. Here I sat staring at what might be a collection of some of the most beautiful women on earth, or at least in Texas...and I couldn't see! That's when the blind man on the four-wheeler came to mind. I found myself wondering if more blondes choose the nursing profession or if this particular doctor just prefers blondes. I didn't finish my train of thought. A possibly beautiful blonde nurse suddenly appeared from the operating room, wiggling a finger which I could hardly see, summoning me. My time had come.
The surgery itself was much like waterboarding at Guantanamo Bay. Not that I've ever been to Guantanamo Bay, but there surely must have been some blonde nurse standing over me with a fire hose, flooding my eye constantly as the surgeon removed my cornea with a dull pocketknife. Pain seared through my body as I wondered if maybe the anesthesiologist had called in sick, or if perhaps the blonde nurse had just given up on hitting a vein. Between the waterboarding torture, I could feel the surgeon attaching a new cornea, wondering if it was manmade or if it had been lifted from some unsuspecting dead corpse. I bit my lip as I felt a needle suture the thing onto my eyeball.
"There, all done!"
A green veil was lifted from my face and what might have been my doctor peered down at me with a smile as some blonde nurse unstrapped my head from the gurney.
See, that didn't take long, did it?"
"Neither do executions," I muttered under my breath as the blonde nurse taped a clear plastic patch over my eye with duct tape. Not sure about the duct tape since I couldn't SEE!
Fifteen minutes later some blonde nurse pointed me in the general direction of the door, giving me a wave goodbye. I stepped out into the bright sunlight and withered like a vampire, a terrific pain shooting through my eye. Of course! The evil blonde nurse had dilated my eye, and a mighty fine job she did at that.
I felt my way to my vehicle, stumbling inside and groping for a pair of sunglasses, which wouldn't fit over the patch. I finally found reverse and secretly hoped I wouldn't back into anything. Just forty miles to the house, I thought, crossing my fingers. And off I went in search of home, blinded by the bright sunlight and the glare on that blasted plastic patch. A pirate patch...I've always wanted a black pirate patch and what do they give me? It might have been worth going through all this for a pirate patch! I mean, a plastic patch? You just don't get the full effect...