I’m reminded of the Billy Joel song, I’m Movin’ Out:

Sergeant O’Leary is walkin’ the beat
At night, he becomes a bartender
He works at Mister Cacciatore’s down on Sullivan Street
Across from the medical center.

Yeah, and he’s trading in his Chevy
For a Cadillac-ac-ac-ac-ac-ac
You oughta know by now
(You oughta know by now)
And if he can’t drive with a broken back
At least he can polish the fenders.

And it seems such a waste of time
If that’s what it’s all about
Mama, if that’s movin’ up
Then I’m movin’ out
Mmm, I’m movin’ out.

Instead of “Cadillac-ac-ac-ac-ac-ac,” I’m thinkin’ Cataract-act-act-act-act-act. I’m sporting the big, black Solar Shield sunglasses that look like Blue Blockers and putting drops in my eyes every few hours. I even had to wear a plastic shield over my right eye the first night to avoid scratching and rubbing. Otherwise, everything is normal.

It was just another medical procedure I had to endure this year, but certainly nothing compared to open heart surgery.  So far, they’ve left my brain alone. In a few weeks, they’ll do the left eye and I’ll need to get new glasses, the result of better vision. 

On the never-ending list of doctor visits, I do have a wellness exam next week and will continue the chiropractor adjustments to my spinal area. Walking is getting more comfortable. Currently, I’m sitting on an ice pack while writing this. As the year goes on, I’ll be seeing, even clearer now, a neurologist and a urologist. What could go wrong, or better yet, what is right?