I’m in a hard core quarantine since Thursday, I will be until one week from today, next Sunday. I’m an at risk person headed for my second cataract to be removed, the first one went great. I’m one of those people that follow Doctors orders to a tee, I’ve found regardless of what anyone says if I do as they direct me to I am much better off. It will go off without a hitch, that I am sure of.
One is completed, it was a walk in the park I didn’t feel a thing and there were no lingering pains, itches, or bruising. The patch was removed the next morning exposing a new world to me, they did the worst eye. The impact from blind to sight has sent me into an “Oh Wow!” moment for two weeks. I’m not expecting as big of a difference with the second one but I suspect it will be eye-opening (pun intended).
I am able to see across the river again clearly but only from behind the protection of a window. I bought two pairs of goggles one clear the other dark, for eye protection (I am not suppose to wear them the Dr. said). Dust, glare, and the wind for the first two weeks must be avoided that leaves me inside. For anyone that is an out-side person it is rough to say the least, just going down the ramp to close the gate is a reason to dress up. Mrs. Lebec has banned me from the kitchen also, there is too much I that could poke my eyes out with I suppose, who knows I merely follow directions. I saw an opportunity so volunteering to do the dishes seemed to be in order at that moment.
I don’t blame her for being cautious, she treats her body like a Palace and I on the other hand treat mine like a tent. I am the king of band aids, “how did you do that?” Is a question common from the monitor in chief to which my answer is commonly “I dunno.”
“How can you not know? You’re bleeding.” Mrs. Lebec asks.
“I dunno.” I was taught to say that instead of “I don’t know.”
“There’s a new tube of Neo-Sporum in the medicine chest, wash it real well, and use soap this time.” She says.
“Do you mean that white cube thing on the sink? Or the squeeze bottle in the kitchen?”
“You’re not allowed in the kitchen.” She answers “Besides after all of these years I’m sure you know about the kitchen sink rule.” she adds.
I have been her urban renewal project for many years, I am nearly domesticated. I’m not suppose to wash my hands in the kitchen sink, it’s not like I do all of the time. Mostly its only when she’s not at home because my chances of being caught are much decreased. Unless I forget to wash the sink out; I must not leave any evidence. It’s a lot like eating cookies when she’s away, that’s the only time I am able to sneak them. The packaging was invented by a woman, it is the noisiest plastic ever manufactured, plus with the impossible latches there is no way to be silent (the main reason I am anti-plastic.) As soon as that thing is snapped open Mrs. Lebec is looming ominously in the doorway “What are you doing?”
“Where the heck did you come from?” I avoid then answer the question. “I’m making sure the package is ready to open in case you want a cookie.” That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Jacques Lebec Natural Self Reliance