Silly Little Country

The Bionic Fellowship

On the morning of my transformation to a bionic human, I was one of six others privileged to be dealt with by my cataract surgeon. Her general protocol is to check everyone the next day, and a week later.

As a result, all of us who had been gathered in our various vulnerable states yesterday (heading into an operation in a hospital is definitely one way to become pretty vulnerable), passing by one another, were reassembled this morning not far from the scene of the operations in her office.

Many of us were jubilant; I am sure that like me, they had tentatively and hopefully removed their eyepatches in the morning, and discovered like me that something remarkable and delightful had happened to their vision. One person came in with the eyepatch still on; she did not look happy. One person had her son phone in, and had not removed her eyepatch. I understand that anxiety well, though I did overcome mine.

The man who sang the Italian National Anthem yesterday was decidedly gregarious and jubilant today, greeting us all happily on arrival, and giving me a farewell wave as I left the office (though I think we meet again next week). The fellow whose post-operative good cheer gave me such a key pre-operative lift yesterday was in very good spirits as well; he told me that his anxiety at this latest patch removal, even though this was his second eye to have the operation, was still real. And I believe mine will be as well when this stage comes (soon, I hope).

All in all, it is interesting to watch us creatures slightly in extremis, and to see the group psychology as we all recognize our common plight (and delightful, it is beginning to seem, opportunity).

posted by Alan Adamson @ 4:45 PM