|Not what I have in my eyes: a cataphract|
As part of my physical MOT, in the wake of my recent sickening headaches, I went to the opticians to have my eyes checked... only to discover that I have the early signs of cataracts developing!
The optician couldn't initially understand why, although there had been little change in my prescription in the two years since my eyes were last checked, my eyes didn't appear to be able to read as far down the chart as they should.
I then went for the photograph of the interior of the eyeballs that they always do, then I was sat outside while the optician and her superior had a closed door conference over what they had found in my eyes.
Turns out that I have cataracts and may well, at some stage, require an operation to correct them (which fills my brain with Clockwork Orange-style scenes of horror, as I hate having anything - or anyone - that near my eyes).
This could be in six months, six years or never, they said, but added that the 'silver lining' was that after the operation I would probably need a lower prescription as this kind of operation usually fixed shortsightedness to a certain degree.
There is nothing that can be done, except to ensure I wear sunglasses when necessary (as everyone should, to protect their eyes), and the cataracts will do whatever they wanted to do in their own time.
Meanwhile, the opticians will be writing to my doctors' surgery to let them know of my condition.
Once I've gathered my thoughts, I guess, I should see my GP and find out if there is any connection with this latest 'bombshell' and these bloody headaches (which are definitely not as bad as they were, but are still hanging around).
Rachel, as ever, was very calm when I got home and broke the news to her, pointing out that her dad had had this operation the other year and it had dramatically improved his eyesight.
And, of course, I may never need an operation... which is the best result I could hope for.