Showing posts with label your eyes are a blue million miles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label your eyes are a blue million miles. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Special powers.

Taken by a very tall man. Los Angeles 2014
 I've been wearing spectacles ever since I was a little girl of nine or so. At first, for reading the writing on the black board at school. For years I walked around in a fuzz, not realising that I needed to wear them all the time. Then, when I was sixteen, I got my first pair of contact lenses. Epiphany: the trees are not big green blobs - they are made up of leaves! And the boys have very hairy legs. (My mom remembers me telling her that)

I've always known my eyes are bad, but it was a shock to me when my optometrist told me that if I had been born in the middle ages, I would have a staff and someone would have had to lead me around - in fact, if my right eye was just a little weaker, I would be legally blind. Not in darkness, but without aid I saw only light, colour and blurry shapes. The long legged man often stands in the doorway and smiles at me - I know this because I hear the tiny kiss of the corners of his mouth. For what my maker took away in sight, I was compensated for with a fine set of ears.

 Last monday I went to see the Superman of corneas, Dr. Michael Attenborough. By a stroke of luck, I was bumped up to have PRK laser surgery on thursday - the waiting list is normally months long. It was over within minutes: the pasting of eyelashes with special curved tape, the flashing lights, the ice cold drops and a smell I'd rather not remember. Gentle words of encouragement from the doctor and the firm pressure of a nurse's hand on my arm the entire time.

I asked him a few days later what it felt like to bring such miraculous change to people's lives. He said that often it doesn't feel like work - in a case like mine, it's actually fun. Then he showed me some of the other work he's done - cornea transplants for people with cataracts covering the entire eye. He has special powers that man, and a very steady hand.

I can now read the teeniest little words on the eye dropper bottle. I've just done some darning and could thread the needle - piece of cake. Long distances are still settling in - there's a haze. But it's early days yet and just another lesson in patience.

The eyes can do a thousand things that the fingers cannot.
- Iranian proverb.

Sanell Aggenbach

Monday, September 27, 2010

Show'n'Tell


 I loved the drive to Matjiesfontein. Flashing by as I drove: black-headed sheep, children waving, rosy mountains in the late afternoon and itty-bitty railway halts with names like Konstabel and Tweeside. The soundtrack was loud and perfect: Dead Man's Bones, Electrelane, Slim Gaillard and a
smattering of Captain Beefheart.
 

 The Lord Milner Hotel is a Victorian beaut. If you ever go, nab the Honeymoon Suite - it has twin bath tubs! The weekend there reminded me of being on a cruise ship in days of yore - planned activities, breakfast and dress-up dinners in the dining room... 
This was the fifth annual Show'n'Tell, but my first. I plan to go forevermore.
 

 Photos by Damien Schumann - a great capturer of the moment. He had a secret printer and photos appeared in the foyer as if by magic. He also did a very graceful dance with fire.
 

 Music, theatre, crafts and general hilarity.
 

The Magician Dude entertains the tinies before the Bioscope. In the Laird's Arms Bar the night before, he had us crying with laughter in an act that had him multiplying red foam balls, finding money in lemons and stripping down to his boxers.
 

 Waiting in line, the Folk Singer did some impromptu strumming. He has a voice sweet like honey and takes frequent naps.
 

 The Speed Confessional Booth by Doctor Ruth. Discretion not a guarantee. So I confessed to being fickle when it came to matters of the heart. That I fell in love at the drop of a hat, but quickly suffered from lassitude. My prescription, drawn from that hat:
learn a foreign accent.
 

 Croquet was played, as was Boule. Gin & tonics and champagne on tap. A morning of crossword puzzles on the lawn. Things never stopped happening.
 

 I've always loved the colours and the smells of the Karoo. And the water tastes like copper coins. 
Back soon I hope.