no longer the king

If the one-eyed is king in the land of the blind, my royal status lasted exactly two weeks.

Yesterday, my ophthamologist replaced the lens in my right eye. The experience was, again, painless and brief. The dilation wore off in about 24 hours, and today I drove myself to work. I can't say I rejoined the ranks of the blind, not literally, but I rejoined the ranks of those who don't need corrective lenses to see.

Oh, I'll need reading glasses but I've been using them for years. I'm not clearly seeing the words on my computer monitor as I type this, about 20 inches from my face, but I suspect that will get better with the passage of time. I can read street signs and traffic signals and turn signals, and I can see pedestrians and small animals in the roadway, and I am not a threat to traffic when I drive. I can read the dial on the alarm clock on the other side of the room in the middle of the night for the first time ever.

I will be able to open my eyes in a swimming pool, clear my mask while scuba diving, and crash headfirst down a slope while skiing without fear of losing contact lenses. I can see the score when the Rays are on TV, which has been a sad thing to see the past two nights as the Yankees prove that they've been loafing all season but are waking up in time for the run-up to the post-season.

Some call this operation a miracle. Some call it science fiction, but it isn't fiction. Some just call it wonderful.

Speaking of miracles, when I was about 12 I decided to test my faith by praying that my eyesight would get normal. It didn't, at least not during the next 52 years. I didn't give up on faith, but neither am I calling this experience an answered prayer. It is more of a demonstration that the ability of scientists to learn about the body and how to repair it is a gift of God, and anybody who interferes with science in the name of religion is an ignorant fool.