Announcing your plans is a good way to hear God laugh.
That sounds so much more interesting than the usual expression: "the best laid plans of mice and men often go astray". We have all been using this quote from a poem by Robert Burns for so long,that none of us even finish it anymore. We just say: "the best laid plans......." and leave it at that. So I liked the other expression quite a bit. Crisp and to the point.
My plan to become better friends with winter was coming along just fine. There was the snowshoes, and the photo opportunities of the beauty and the mess mother nature threw at us. And we had reached the end of February, so daytime temperatures were not as bad anymore. I figured we could explore some other trails.
But then we got the flu. We didn't feel so well going home on Friday afternoon the 25th of February, but we figured we could sleep-chicken-soup-vicks-advil it into submission over the weekend. This would be the part where you should imagine the above mentioned booming laughter. I didn't get dressed again until eight days later. The photographer made two excursions to the grocery store, and found that a tough assignment. Needless to say the snowshoes were standing abandoned in the corner by the front door, and no new trails were explored. We were off work a whole week.
Although we had some thaw, some snow still fell during that week, and again the following Thursday. Thick heavy stuff, and I figured we could go out the following weekend, and try out a different trail. Again that booming laughter. After cleaning the driveway on Thursday I got in the car and noticed that I had a storm of tiny grey dots in my right eye, only visible against the uniform primer grey snow sky. I had developed a floater the day before, and was planning on having that checked, but this new symptom freaked me out. Let me explain why:
Twelve years ago when we moved to Ottawa we got a new eye doctor. She is super thorough, and questioned us on family history. I explained that my grandfather had detached retinas, and she informed me that this can be hereditary, explained the symptoms, and pressed on me to watch for them. Flashes of light, showers or dots, and floaters. My father's sister subsequently went on to develop the same condition. I had a floater before in my other eye, but there was no damage detected, and at that time I had none of the other symptoms.
So when I got to work I called the eye doctor and asked if I could be seen immediately. After a thorough examination of my eye, she concluded that there was indeed retinal involvement, and sent me to the eye institute at the Ottawa Hospital. There I was told that there was a significant retinal tear, and they fixed it with a laser immediately. The laser surgery is completely painless, but it is very hard to keep looking into the super-bright light. The doctor has a special lens placed directly on your eye (no discomfort) which he holds in place manually, so you can't close the eye. But you are very conscious that you must keep the eye still, or the laser will hit the wrong spot. According to the photographer the procedure took 15 to 20 minutes. It completely wore me out, and I was totally "done" afterward.
"Do nothing strenuous at all" he said. try to keep still as much as possible. "Come back for a follow up check next Wednesday, and don't go to work until then".
Back to the couch I went. Unlike when I had the flu, and I wanted to do nothing, this was a chore. I could see dust bunnies in other rooms by some psychic method. I channel surfed , but surprisingly, there is still not enough Law and Order on TV to pass all the time. I had a good laugh at a pile of 30 minute infomercials on Saturday. I have to say that the Wen haircare system has attractively old fashioned bottles with rustic labels to make you think it is old fashioned and natural. Their before and after demos were hilarious. How obvious can you get! And the ab and back machines out there are something else. Do we still fall for this kind of claims? It seems we do.
I went back for the check today, and all is healing nicely. I have been cleared to go back to work, so for the second time in three weeks I get to try to untangle the inevitable mess that unscheduled absence create in my workload. Dinner will come from M&M meatshops for the next couple of days still. I have been told I can go back to swimming next week. I am in no rush.
And look at that! Tomorrow is St-Patrick's Day, or as I call it: "the official beginning of the end of winter". It is above freezing during the day, and the snow cover is reducing. Despite the less than expected snowshoeing, we did much better than last winter.
So after all that, I'm not actually sure who gets the last laugh.
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