Last weekend got a bit traumatic...
This is largely taken from my Live Journal, as I just can't rewrite it.
We had a great weekend planned. I was going up to London with sewing partner Su on Friday so we could set off from there at a reasonably early hour to get up to Leicester for the visit to the Symington collection... Then we were going to spend the rest of the weekend and most of Monday decluttering and doing a spot of cupboard triage in preparation for getting her house properly on the market.
The Friday bit went ok. Had a nice leisurely evening and nice wine, and went to bed fairly early so we could make a timely start on Saturday.
Saturday's plan was to go up to Leicester via Cambridge, dropping Su's partner Roger off at New Hall for a day of role playing convention. We were traveling in his car, thus avoiding paying for parking for it while he wasn't there to use it... But at 8:00am when we went out to get into the vehicle, the polis were cordoning off the top end of the street. OK, so turn the car round... Long car, narrow road, trees. There was a tree/rear windsceen interface issue. And a rear windscreen then turned into stuff like sugar crystals when the tree poked it. So rather than setting off at that point, we spent the next hour sweeping up broken glass and taping black plastic over the gap, and talking to the lovely people at Autoglass.
There was no suitable screen in London. One could not be obtained until Monday, by which time our man needed to be in Swindon. Oops.
I had an idea... Could they fix the screen in Leicester rather than here in London? Ho yuss! No probs. So we set off to Cambridge, conducting discussions with insurers, and drop the penguin off at New College. He just had to chase the insurance policy and the deed could be done. And he did, to great effect.
Su then drove us up to Leicester. Yes, we were later than we wanted to be, but the visit was fab, and we met lots of nice peeps, and I'll do a separate post about that later... Corsets to die for, and interesting uses of quilting.
Afterwards, we went and camped at LJ friend Jane's and met with LJ friend Suey again for tea and cake while the Autoglass mens did the thing with the rear windscreen. Su then drove us back to Cambridge. The M1 is always nasty and the A14 can be challenging, but we arrived safely and in good time, considering. We went off to an Indian restaurant for dinner as there was no hope of getting home before we starved. It was good. Very yummy. Roger then did the hero stuff and drove us home to Walthamstow. All was good. I went to bed feeling as if there was a small something in my eye. Couldn't see anything. Bathed it and went to sleep.
On Sunday morning we got up. My left eye felt... odd. Well, you don't normally feel yer eyeballs, but I could this one. Left one... And it had floaters. I am short sighted. I often see floaters. I don't suppose I have more than anyone else really, it's just that I get looked at regularly with my biannual eye test, and they always check for things like glaucoma and stuff, and I'm conscious of them. I had my test about a month ago, and there was no problem then. This time there were bigger floaters, with a sort of corona effect round them, and a sort of background like the pepper effect you get in French vanilla ice cream with the ground up vanilla pod, only brownish red.
I cleaned out a cupboard and thought about it, but it wasn't getting any better, and a brief talk with NHS Direct ment that Roger ran me down to the local hospital (University College Hospital at Whipps Cross), where there is supposed to be an emergency eye clinic. Well, there is, but not on Sunday, so they sent me straight to the Moorfield.
A case of hurry up and wait, there. I got booked in and triaged, and then waited... And then I got seen by the nurse and waited again... And then got seen by the doc, who proclaimed a tear in the retina that they wanted to fix before it turned into a detatched retina. Non-urgent, come back tomorrow morning at 9:30 am! And I had their loverly drops in my eyes, so the fine evening sun dazzled me mightily as I came out of the hospital.
We went back to Walthamstow. By this time Su was exhausted with clearing and cleaning and worrying (though we had been keeping her up to date with progress and diagnosis), and we had a Chinese take-away rather than try and roast the chicken. And then we turned in for the night.
We were up again the next morning bright and early. Roger set off for Swindon and I went back to the Moorfield.
I have to say that I would, on the whole, rather have root canal work than laser eye surgery. It's not painful, exactly, and the lovely eye surgeon did put numbing drops in, but it is far from pleasant. And you have to keep still and try not to blink. Urgle! Your eyes get filled with drops that give you Mutant Alien Eyes with giant pupils. They make it hard to focus and every bit of light dazzles.
The surgeon was super, and did what he had to do as fast and as well as he could, but it was a substantial tear, and fixing it was complicated by my left eye having a delaminated sheath round the optic nerve. This is not that uncommon, I know, but mine is particularly well developed and has been photgraphed on several occasions. It also refracts any light shone into the eye, and makes it harder to see the retina. It took over an hour and in excess of 400 pops of the laser. But it was done at last, and I donned dark glasses and ventured back to Walthamstow after a rather fine slice of ginger cake and a pleasant cup off coffee in the hospital friends cafe. I have to go back in a couple of weeks to have it checked.
After lunch I managed to help with some storage shopping and sorting, a bit of gentle boxing of stuff into the storage, and the roasting of the chook and some veggies for dinner. I was still having problems focusing because of the drops, and was knacked. It's amazing how tiring sitting in a comfy chair can be after an hour.
We came home to Kent on Tuesday morning rather than the planned Monday evening. It meant Su could get more washing done and fire off a much-needed email. We left at nine and were home in plenty of time to unload, have a cuppa, and see the client about her new frock. Yum! Black satin for a posh frock do.
I am still not fully back to normal eye function. My pupils were still dilated on Tuesday, and focusing is slow. But the floaters are fading and the post-op discomfort from being prodded and holding unnatural eye positions while having lasers fired at me is dying down, so I dare say I'll be fine by and by.
How do I feel? Pissed off, mostly. But infinitely glad that it happened where and when it did, rather than somewhere and some when less convenient. And very VERY grateful that Su and Roger were there to pick up the bits and sort me out and keep me grounded. But it was all more stress and a lot less fun than we wanted.
Apparantly I have taken over 300 pix of the Symington collection! There will be a HUGE LJ entry on that, and I'll make sure you get to see the quilted bits.
Oh, and I met the Great Niece (adorable!), and her quilt is progressing well.