Here are some of my Dollar Store “reader” glasses. This whole “cataract surgery” process has been a bit more complicated than I expected.

I wore my huge boot and hobbled into the hospital for the first surgery. The boot confused the nursing staff as they wondered if a mistake had been made and I was to have foot surgery instead of eye surgery. Of course they asked how I broke my foot and my reply–“I was rehoming a duck”–was met with silence and raised eyebrows.

Afterwards Banjo Man helped me hobble across the parking lot to the car. Along with the boot and the pink cane, I now sported a large plastic eye guard held in place by a ton of tape.

So pretty.

“Take me to Serv-A-Burger”, I insisted. “I am STARVING.”

In my defense, I hadn’t had anything to eat in nineteen hours.

Banjo Man: “Drive up window?”

I should have caught on then, because my husband never voluntarily goes into a drive-up window situation.

“Oh, no,” I said. “I can’t see well enough to eat in the car on the way home. I need to sit down.”

“I’ll drop you off,” he said. “I need to get a few things at Super 1. Like broccoli. And bread.”

It wasn’t until he sped off and I walked into this beloved local hamburger joint that I suddenly realized I didn’t look my best. The poor young woman at the counter did an obvious double-take and tried to hide her shock as she saw a plastic boot, pink cane, plastic eye guard, and a white haired senior citizen.

I must have been a vision.

Ask me if I cared. I wanted onion rings and I didn’t care what I looked like.

A few days later I learned that Banjo Man went to Super 1, bought no groceries, and leisurely enjoyed one of their famous 25-cent ice cream cones for half an hour while I gulped down a burger and onion rings.

There was no way he wanted to be seen with me.

I couldn’t blame him. No one in their right mind would have wanted to accompany me anywhere.

After the second surgery–yes, I still wore the boot but didn’t need the cane that day–we once again stopped at Serv-A-Burger again. This time Banjo Man went inside and ordered take-out.

I couldn’t stop laughing.

So now, almost two weeks later, I’m still trying to navigate life without long-distance glasses and life with needing “readers” for just about everything. I have bought five pairs and they are all over the house. I’ve been reassured that it takes about six weeks for vision to settle, so I am trying to be patient.

On the other hand, I can sit on the dock and see this: