Holy long blog title, eh? Sorry, but I can’t be bothered to shorten it. Besides, it pretty accurately describes what this post is about, so I’m keeping it.
Yesterday, I had another appointment with my ophthalmologist at St. Martha’s Hospital, in Antigonish, regarding my latest eye drama. As is always the case for my eye appointments, Dad was my chauffeur. I brought along my iPad (because I do not own a smartphone) to entertain myself while on the road. I used to take my DSLR along for this purpose, but my eyes are so bad right now, it’s difficult to use it. Oh, well… it’s temporary. I hope.
Our trip did not begin (or end) in Port Hawkesbury, but that’s where I began (and finished) snapping photos, so that’s where today’s play by play of our journey will begin (and end). You can follow along using the map below, if you wish.
For as long as I have known my father (45 years) he has never been able to go anywhere without stopping somewhere along the way to work. Yesterday’s trip to my ophthalmologist was no exception. Dad’s first pitstop was to fix a dryer in an apartment building.
The second stop Dad made was to drop off a (repaired) microwave at a furniture and appliance store in Port Hastings.
While crossing the causeway, I missed an opportunity to photograph a trailer load of (what we assumed was) confiscated pumpkins. I didn’t see the enormous mound of orange sitting at the weigh station until long after my father had pointed it out to me. Ugh! Stupid eyes!
For nearly half an hour after crossing the causeway, there was nothing interesting to photograph outside. Somewhere near Linwood, I began taking selfies.
We started seeing “stuff” again as we approached Antigonish.
At this point we were only 5 minutes away from our destination, but… we were more than two hours early, because my father always insists that we leave home at some ridiculous time just in case there happens to be some sort of traffic delay. To the surprise of nobody other than my father, there were no delays. We needed to find something to do to kill time. Dad thought it would be a good opportunity to pay a visit to the insurance broker and raise the value of a policy on one of his rental properties. I stayed in the car and took selfies.
After the insurance business was settled, we met my aunt (Dad’s sister-in-law) at a deli on Main Street for tea. I took a few snaps from my seat at the table.
Before leaving the place, I excused myself from the table to go to the washroom. When I returned, my aunt and my father were waiting by the door talking to a woman I did not know. I gather that when I was in the washroom, she had been introduced to my dad and was told about the family connection, because when I returned, she asked if I was related too. Dad filled her in. The next thing she wanted to know was my age. After telling her how old I am, her reaction was, “SHUT UP! NO YOU AREN’T! You’re joking right?” After the others had confirmed that I had told the truth, she said, “you must have some pretty good genes then!”
After saying our goodbyes at the deli, Dad and I made our way to the hospital for my eye exam. I was certain that we’d be waiting there for hours, on account of it being so late in the afternoon, but that wasn’t the case. The doctor was only running 50 minutes behind. While it seemed as if everyone else in the place was bitching and complaining about having to wait so long, I was thanking my lucky stars that I’d out of there so soon.
When I sat in the examination chair, I asked the doctor how long it would be before I could expect my vitreous detachment symptoms—the giant floaters—to disappear. The answer was complicated. I’ll try and simplify for you. It’s a brain thing. The longer I focus on my floaters, the longer I will see them. He said it normally takes 2-3 months for most to become blind to it. However, because I can’t see out of my right eye—thanks to my cataract—it’s likely going to take longer than that. Having the ability to see with my right eye would go a long way to help divert my attention from the floater in the left one. Aside from that, I learned that nothing has changed in my eye since I saw the doctor a week ago. I will be examined again in 3 weeks.
As usual, I left the hospital not being able to focus on a freaking thing. I kept my eyes shut for most of the drive home to keep myself from getting sick. I can’t begin to explain what it was like when Dad stopped at Atlantic Superstore in Port Hawkesbury and I opened my messed up eyes. I couldn’t decipher anything through the pelting rain. I snapped a photo, then closed my eyes again until we made it the rest of the way home.
For, Writing: Finding Everyday Inspiration. “Day Seventeen: A Map as Your Muse”