Nevers & Smith

It was Tuesday and the eye still hurt. I decided to have a look; it was bad. 

Bartholomew Canyon

I picked an opthamologist off the web and after explaining the receptionist asked, "Can you be here in twenty minutes?" As luck would have it, I could.

Dr. Nevers agreed "That's an angry-looking eye." Dr. Robert Smith, the opthamologist, concurred. I spent the afternoon trying to get the meds they prescribed. It turned out Walmart couldn't get 'em.

Closer to Town

Next day, at CVS, they were amazing and by 1:30 I was dosed. I repaired to The Wilds to await the followup.

Yesterday Dr. Nevers referred me to Dr. Charlton, a corneal specialist.

A Venerable Stump

Lucking out again, I secured an appointment for Monday at 3:30. Time enough to bathe and drive the 45 miles into Salt Lake City.

I've known for years I've needed a cornea transplant. It's been interesting to find several folks willing, but when I went to Stanford, out by San Francisco, the surgeon, a man of integrity, said to call him if I ever decided to live inside. It seems my lifestyle is too dirty. (The others were, apparently, eager for the money.) 

My heart's -- three-blocked-arteries -- condition precludes the option; they say I wouldn't survive the anesthesia.

I'm hoping Dr. Charlton will have something to quell the pain next time it decides to act out.

Phoebe's New Shoe

Can/do folks who're blind feel the clouds, the colors of a leaf, the mountains' distant ramparts?