The Opthamologist made his pronouncement in January "it is time for this pterygium to be cut." My immediate reply was "well, let's leave it until after Carnival." Any bystander would have thought this woman is a big mas player. I haven't worn a costume for about eight years. Minor surgery which would be done between the majors and you will go home right after it is done, just bring someone to drive you, was the consolation offered. As I write, I am now surer than ever that there is nothing minor about the cutting of any part of your anatomy. This reddish piece of flesh stretching from the inside corner of my left eye to the eyeball, had over the years become brighter red and was more easily inflamed by sun, sea and sand. Three things that I really do love. I also had read that the great Brian Lara suffers from the same thing.
The eye facts about Pterygium, which I never imagined began with a 'P', read that "it is a fleshy growth that invades the cornea (the clear front window of the eye). It is an abnormal process in which the conjunctiva (a membrane that covers the white of the eye) grows into the cornea. Pterygium may be small or grow large enough to interfere with vision and commonly occur on the inner corner of the eye. The exact cause is not well understood. Pterygium occur more often in people who spend a great deal of time outdoors, especially in sunny climates. Long-term exposure to sunlight, especially ultra-violet (UV) rays, and chronic eye irritation from dry, dusty conditions seem to play an important causal role."
The brochure continues "when a pterygium becomes red and irritated, topical eyedrops or ointments may be used to help reduce the inflammation. If the pterygium is large enough to threaten sight, is growing, or unsightly, it can be removed surgically." Here comes the cruncher: "Despite proper surgical removal, the pterygium may return" but since it emphasised "particularly in young people" I knew mine would not recur.
"Surface radiation or medications are sometimes used to help prevent recurrences. Protecting the eyes from excessive ultraviolet light with proper sunglasses and avoiding dry, dusty conditions may also help." With all these facts under my belt, I entered the nursing home. The first question addressed to my daughter and I was "Who is the patient"? I realised that the word "patient" particularly when directed to me felt like a bad word. Thinking that minor surgery could be handled sitting on a chair facing the surgeon, brought my second awakening as I was led into the theatre area, and adorned in theatre gown, one of those that tie behind like a baby's gown, plastic cap - hats do not suit my face, and clown-like paper booties.
Next came the other most disliked word 'anesthetic', just through drops into the eye, but from past experience I am very aware that any form of anesthesia leaves me shaking for days after. It did not fail and my knees felt like jello up to Sunday - six days later.
But it was when under cover of the green mask which covered my entire face that I heard the surgeon called for "suture" the meaning of which word I know only too well, that I said to myself this is really serious business.
The two day eye patch and trying to look at television and use the computer with one eye was not easy, although my granddaughters found the patch cool. There is a high degree of imbalance for more than a week, discomfort in the eye, sinus pains and mild headaches, which leaves me in a position to advise Mr Lara that he should really plan for a break of at least one month from the cricket pitch when he decides to get his pterygium removed. And since I can also safely say that the sight in my left eye is now decidely clearer, our star batsman may just find himself with longer stays at the wicket once it is removed.