In which… conehead?
I awoke this morning at 5:30. By 7:30 I was on the train. At 8:15 I was on the subway. At 8:45 I arrived to my appointment. The appointment lasted from 9:00 to 9:17. By 9:30 I was back on the subway. By 10:00 I was back on the train. At 11:20 I was home.
What 17-minute meeting is worth nearly 4 hours of travel? Why did I awaken so early?
My mind often wakes me early when I have much to accomplish. And today’s was not about the life-changing home purchase I’ve been working on. Today’s was about my eyes.
They’re cones, you see. Becoming them, at least. My sister used to refer to me (affectionately?) as cone-eye.
And cones, as any optician will tell you, do not make ideal lenses.
After ten years of wanting and wishing and wandering, I’ve finally found a surgeon who should be able to get me the perfect vision I’ve always wanted (sans glasses).
I had an appointment with a member of his team 6 months ago, and then again today to confirm the measurements are stable. (I.e. my eyes have concluded their cone-becomingness.)
They have.
We have.
In 14 days I will consult with this surgeon.
One, or two, or perhaps six days later he will slice open my eye to add a new lens.
One week after that, he will repeat with the other eye.
Then,
we
shall
see
Julian Wise 