Anyway, a close friend of mine recently went to the doc's because he had what he thought was a large floater in his eye
Turned out he was getting a detached retina, so had an op, and although he had to lie with his head horizontal for five days
Picture of the patient lying down, assisted by his missus, before they'd got the seating arrangements sorted out
he seems to have made a full recovery.
So of course, since then, I have been scrutinizing my eyes and sure enough, a week or so ago, I developed a ton of floaters in my left eye.
Mentioned it to my missus, who suggested going to see the optician, so last Friday, I made an appointment for this morning. Of course I spent all weekend and yesterday googling white sticks, learning braille and generally coming to terms with the fact that I was going blind and probably also had an inoperable brain tumor.
My missus was very sympathetic, said it was probably nothing, but I could see she was worried, which made me more anxious.
So off I went this morning to the opticians, and bade a tearful farewell to her. She was being very brave. To be honest, I was almost more worried about her than me, and all the way to the appointment I was imagining her devoting the rest of her life to looking after this brilliant but tragically flawed and blind genius.
Picture of me in my heyday. What a waste.
Anyway, they do various tests and take pictures of my retinas and turns out I'm fine. Just a symptom of getting on a bit, but was told to "keep an eye on it". Big joke.
So I come out, full of the joys of spring and can't wait to give the missus the good news, so I call her. Takes an age to pick up. Conversation goes like this
"Hi it's me!"
"Who was on the phone?"
"What?"
"aren't you upstairs?"
"What? NO!! I've just come out from the opticians"
"Oh, OK. When did you go out then?"
