I get my worrying done early, you see. It’s quite good really, because it means that when I have to go for the (extremely minor) operation, I’ll have done with all that anxiety nonsense and will be looking forward to it. Today, it was just for my eye to be looked at.
I’ve got this thing on my eyelid, as you’ll have noticed if you’ve met me. It’s been there for a few years, although I’m so vague and unobservant that I don’t know when it popped up. It’s a little – well, it’s not a wart but it looks a bit like one, and it’s on the top lid of my right eye, in the corner. I’ve wished it wasn’t there ever since it’s been there, but I didn’t do anything about it until (because I check frequently) I discovered a month ago that it had grown quite a bit, not visibly from the outside but about half a grain of rice sized under the lid. I was on to the doctor the next morning, made an appointment for the day after tomorrow (today being the day that was tomorrow yesterday, this was about a month ago) and received my hospital appointment within the week. I was pretty impressed with the speed of it all.
Today, I was even more impressed. The letter had a bar code to self-register on arrival, but there was a nice man there to help if necessary. I was called by a nurse ten minutes early to have my eyesight checked, waited another ten minutes and was seen by a doctor, who agreed that the lump should be removed. He also observed that there’s a discharge, which I was unaware of. And he explained that, at present, they are only allowed to remove things that are giving concern – ie, that they might be malignant, which this isn’t in his opinion (nor in mine, for what it’s worth). But, since it would be checked anyway, he would put on the form that it does give cause for concern, because otherwise there would be many pages of forms and a delay before they got authorisation for the operation. So I’m not to worry about what the letter I will receive says. And I’ll lose a few eyelashes, is that okay? I said I could live with that. He said they would use a local anaesthetic. I’d expected that, said it was fine.
Weeza asked how long before I can drive again and how long it would take to heal. Next day, and a week or so, though it might look a bit sore for a few more days.
We left the eye clinic at 20 past 9 from a 9 o’clock appointment, which was fantastically efficient, and I’d been treated with courtesy and kindness throughout. I’d asked Weeza to take me, just in case they put drops in and I wasn’t able to drive for a while, but I’d have been fine as it happens.
Actually, I hate the thought – who wouldn’t? – of sitting there with my eyes open while one of them is attacked by a scalpel. But it’ll be interesting, anyway. And I’m working myself up to being quite excited about it. I’ll be so glad to get rid of that wretched thing – I’m not a vain woman, but it takes an effort not to be self-conscious. Anyway, I’m as lucky as anyone can be – if that’s the worst thing wrong with me, I can only be vastly grateful.