Post Op

Other stuff happened this week, you know: Homestead stuff, but I don’t really remember any of it being that remarkable. The sun shone, the animals fought each other to be first to the feed bucket, I fought the weeds to be first to the vegetables, meals were made, chores were ticked off, off-Homestead workers trundled to and fro.

But this week, the other stuff was incidental.

This week belonged to Farm Girl and her operation.

A left vitrectomy, endolaser and gas is the procedure’s proper label. Google if you’re interested; you won’t be learning the details from me because, like Jack Nicholson’s Colonel Jessop kind of shouted at Tom Cruise/Daniel Kaffee , I can’t handle that truth.

All gowned up and ready to go with the correct procedure target reassuringly identified

For those of us on the sidelines, it was a long day full of waiting, worrying, half watching bad television, with little heart-melting, eye moistening moments thrown in.

Yes, it’s done”

She was so worried she would be rude or mean whilst under the influence of anesthesia. In fact, she reverted to her utterly adorable, sweet natured, circa -two-year-old self. Every nurse was so pretty, her new wrist band – an alert to any doctors that she is moving through the next six or so months with gas in her eye – was “so beautiful and yellow like a banana”, and the tears for Liverpool FC‘s (who were, as she was in theatre, dealing to The Farmer’s beloved Chelsea) loss of Bobby were very real. No one dared mention Jurgen.

Now for the recovery. Two weeks of looking down, sleeping only on her side or front, living the quiet life.

Job’s, as we on the Homestead like to say, a good’un.

13 thoughts on “Post Op

  1. Well done to the FG. Hard things have to be got through to get to the other side. I did look it up, and could frankly have done without the photographs showing the procedure, but I do think this sounds like a remarkable procedure and really hope it makes a difference, although the recovery period sounds a bit daunting. I know your girl is up to it though! So glad it finally came to pass. And that arrow? I cannot tell you how many times I have had to tell specialists “the other right” when they go to stick needles into my completely OK left leg that are meant to go into my not very good right leg. You need the arrow.

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