“Well…..you young people have it so easy today. Back when I was young……”

Have you ever dug way back into your memory and tried to come up with your very first recollections of your childhood…..indeed, of your existence? Probably not…..unless you are trying to prove a point to some young person. And, even then, it is probably exaggerated…..or somewhat embellished with a little bit of fantasy. You probably have more interesting things to do with your time. And, if you are young…..your life doesn’t go back that far anyways. A lot of your childhood seems like yesterday.

Maybe I just have too much time on my hands…..after all I am retired. Or perhaps the older one gets…..the more nostalgic one gets. That would make an interesting study for somebody to conduct….maybe a good PhD dissertation. Now that I think about it, maybe I should have done it. And, maybe it isn’t too late.

I have a book of questions that I often use when I am taking a long trip somewhere in my car with friends or acquaintances. They are supposedly thought-provoking questions that are designed to help time go faster. Well, actually, they can’t make time go any faster…..it only makes it seem like it does.

One of the questions that one will inevitably find among these pages is just that: What is your earliest childhood memory?

Yeah….the younger a person is, the easier it is to come up with an answer. Most of that sort of stuff is still rather fresh in memory……sort of in the index of their mind….or maybe the table of contents. For older people…..OK, I will say it: For Old people…..the answers are not always so easy to dredge up. Maybe it sort of like the difference between seeing an object in the shallow end….the kiddy end…..of a swimming pool, and seeing an object in the deep end of the pool…..and, in my case….the very deep end!

Looking back into those foggy reaches of my childhood, it is impossible not to marvel over all the changes that have taken place in the past seventy-five years. My world today has very little resemblance to the world I grew up in. Radical changes have taken place. ….some of them for the better and some of them for the worse. And, I can imagine that children who are living today will say the same thing when they are 75 years old.

But first…..to those first childhood recollections.

Two events stand out…..but it is impossible to assign an exact date to either one of them…..which one came first and which one followed. Or…..who knows? Maybe they happened on the same day! Although I doubt it.

When my mother did laundry, I am sure she didn’t want to be bothered. I can recall that she put kitchen chairs down on the floor…..laid them down, turned then length-wise…..to form a barrier so neither me or my younger brother could get into the kitchen where she was doing the laundry……and bother her. This may not sound like much a barrier….much of a challenge…..but for a little boy of my age and size, those chairs must have seemed like mountains. I am pretty sure they achieved their intended purpose…..keeping us out of the kitchen and out of her way so she could get some work done. In this case, the laundry.

The second memory…..which is even more vague….but something that I still clearly see…. is my play pen. I don’t remember being in this pen…..probably about 4 feet by 4 feet…..very often, though. The play pen was put up in our living room about nap time…..a time that I used to dislike very much! There were some toys, a blanket and a pillow. I could play with the toys until I got bored….and that is when I must have given up and fell asleep. And, that is where I stayed until I woke up from my nap. At least, that is the way I remember it.

Back in those days, I remember strenuously resisting taking a nap. It was one of my least favorite things to do……but I had no choice. Wow….how things have changed! Today, taking naps is one of my favorite things to do. Nobody has to ask me twice to take a nap. And, it is something that I have gotten very good at over the years.

This memory was triggered recently by one of my former German students. He and his wife are having their first child soon. He told me they had bought a “cage” for the kid. “Wow,” I thought, “that isn’t very nice. That can’t be true.” After asking some questions about the “cage”, I finally figured out that they had also bought a play pen for their forthcoming child. It looks like some things have not changed over the years….at least, in that respect. I wonder if their child will dislike the play pen as much as I did.

Many times, I have considered hiring a hypnotist to help me delve back into my early childhood to recall other such incidents……and I still might. But, contrary to what many people think….and how is it usually portrayed on TV and in the movies…..hypnotism is not a very exact science. It is very unreliable. Just like we have selective memories about our present lives……we also have selective memories stored in our sub-conscious minds. According to all that I have learned, we tend to arrange our thoughts and memories in a very self-selective…..and maybe even a self-serving…..way. I still may go ahead and do it, though.

Even though I cannot remember a lot of specific incidents, there are many things that I do recall…..and recall very vividly. It was an exciting time for many rural people. We were beginning to move into the “modern” world, with the addition of conveniences that made our revolutionized our lives and made them easier.

For example, I remember when we first got electricity installed! Wow…..what a difference that made in our lives. I can still recall the days when we used kerosene lamps…..and battery powered radios…..had no refrigerator…… All of that changed with the advent of rural electricity. We had no refrigerator…..or Frigidaire as we called them. We had a wooden “ice box”. It was a refrigerator-like contraption. The top opened up to accommodate a 25 or 50 lbs. block of ice. In turn, the ice kept the contents of the ice box cool…..or semi-cool. I can remember making trips to the ice plant on a regular basis to pick up a block of ice. The ice was then wrapped in burlap bags…..gunny sacks, as we called them…..and taken back to the house to be put into the top-loading ice box. We had an ice-pick which we used when we wanted some ice for a drink…..something I learned to use at a very early age. And, believe it or not…..I was never taken to the emergency room with life-threatening injuries. But, there may have been a few Band-Aids along the way.

On a typical Saturday night, my uncle and aunt would come to our house, and we would all sit and listen to the “Grand Old Opry” on the battery powered radio……to the dim light of kerosene lamps. That is probably where I developed my life-long love of country music. Except that “country” music was different back then. It was real country music. Hank Williams, Roy Acuff, Cowboy Copus, the Carter Family, Minnie Pearl, Little Jimmy Dickens, Bill Monroe, Ernest Tubb……just to mention a few.

They also listened to radio news programs….and this would have been at the very end of World War II and the years that followed, when Harry Truman was president. Although this was a time of great relief for the American people…..it was also the period that many problems began to surface with the threat of Joseph Stalin, the USSR and communism. It was also a time when the United States committed to rebuilding both Germany and Japan, while maintaining temporary control of the two nations. And, because of the vastly increased civilian production, it was also a time when labor unions were flexing their muscles.

Be that as it may…..but as a child I remember listening to such radio newscasters as Fulton Lewis, Jr., H V. Kaltenborn, Lowell Thomas, Edward R. Murrow, Gabriel Heatter, and Walter Winchell….among others. Some of these guys were probably legitimate newscasters…..such as Lowell Thomas and Edward R. Murrow. But most of them were cheerleaders for either the Right or the Left…..conservative or liberal. They were sort of the Fox News of the Golden Radio Age…..not so much news as there was very biased commentary. And, believe me…..unless my memory is really failing me….they were very much as self-absorbed as many so-called commentators are today.

Of course, back in those days, I really didn’t understand what was going on. Although, it was easy to assume from their conversations that my parents and my uncle and aunt were both very much opposed to Roosevelt…..and very much opposed to Truman…..and very much opposed to Democrats in general. And….need I add? Very much opposed to communism.

Like a lot of children, I adopted my parents’ political views. I was pretty much of a Republican through all of my youthful days. Fortunately, however, this political attitude only prevailed during the years when I was too young to vote…..the years when it really didn’t matter. That was back in the days when I didn’t know any better. I was satisfied to follow the family tradition of voting and supporting and thinking all things Republican.

For some reason…..and I really can’t put my finger on it….my political philosophy underwent a rather radical change when I reached adulthood and actually started to vote. Yes….and I am almost ashamed to even say this….I voted for Richard Nixon in my very first presidential election. This was in 1960 when he was running against John F. Kennedy. But, as I look back on those years, from a perspective of history, maybe this was not such a bad choice. True……Richard Nixon turned out to be a crook. But, on the other hand, John Kennedy turned out to be a philandering, adulterous, self-entitled, privileged, somewhat immoral person…..a person certainly not above using family money and family connections…and maybe even mob connections…..to advance his career. However, this was the last time I ever voted for a Republican for President. Oh yes…..I have voted for Republicans for other state and national offices…..but never for President.

But…..getting back to the point. From the my earliest memories the radio has played an important role….both in entertainment and information. Radio was the “TV of the mind….of the imagination” for my generation. Of course, there was no television….that didn’t come until much later…..but that didn’t hinder us. We were very adept at forming mental pictures in our mind and imagination of the stories and programs we heard on the radio…..whether they were comedy shows and murder mysteries. And, believe me when I tell you…..some of the mystery and detective programs had me terrified and scared half out of my wits when I was a kid……but I still turned them on the next week to hear them again. And, from my earliest days, my dream was always to be a cowboy like Gene Autry or Roy Rogers and ride the range in the Old West fighting outlaws and delivering justice to the oppressed.

Let’s go on to another of those great changes in my world. Running water! Water that was piped into our house…..but even then only to the kitchen sink. It wasn’t until we moved off our rural residence and into town that we had “indoor plumbing”……a euphemism for an indoor bathroom. Before we had water piped into our house, we had a well outside our back door…..and that was our only source of water. We pumped it….using an old-fashioned (by today’s standards, at least) hand pump. Spring, summer, fall and winter…..that is how we got our water: water for cooking, water for laundry, water for bathing, water for drinking. If we wanted or needed water…..there was one way to get it: pump it. I really have no idea whether the water was tested. I seriously doubt it. Back in those days all rural people had a well…..and I don’t think anybody ever thought about subjecting it to any sort of test…..although I could be wrong about this.

At first, as I said, we had water only in the kitchen. And that became our source of water for cooking, for laundry, for…..well, you get the idea. So…..when Mother needed to wash our clothing…..which was often…..she filled large pans with water, heated it on the stove and poured it into the washing machine. (And laid down the chairs to keep me and my younger brother out!) When we wanted to take a bath…..which may not have been as often…..we filled large pans, heated the water on the stove, and poured it into a large….or semi-large…..metal bath tub. But…..at least, we didn’t have to go outside into the freezing winter cold to get the water. However, in the summer time, I suppose we could have gone outside and stood in the rain! And, when we wanted a drink of water…..presto! We turned on the faucet and filled a glass with water…..instead of dipping it out of a bucket….which we had to pump, by hand, out of the ground. It may not seem like much……until your water supply is shut off for a few hours…..or a few days…..and then you begin to understand just how important it is to have a ready source of running water.

Today we take water for granted. We turn on the faucet….and there it is. We can take a shower any time of day or night…..to get clean, to relax. And we can stand there with water streaming down upon us….singing…..until the hot water tank is empty. No problem. We wash our clothes whenever we want….or whenever we let them stack up to the point that we run out of stuff to wear. We brush our teeth…..and usually let the water run while we are doing it…..and think nothing of it. It is too much of an inconvenience to turn it off…..and turn it back on again.

Go back to the days when you used water sparingly…..because the only water you had was what you pumped out of the ground……by hand…..and you may realize what a revolution this made in our lives.

The last last of the major developments that revolutionized our lives was the telephone. Yes….maybe this device wasn’t as basic as electricity or running water……but it sure was a lot more fun! Especially when a person lives in a rural area, away from all his friends. Stop and think about how many times you have said, “I don’t know how I can live without e-mail……or Twitter…..or text messages.” And, most of us have said it, whether we want to admit it or not. It keeps us within constant and easy touch with everybody around us. Well, this was how we felt about the telephone when it was first introduced. How did we ever get along without it? I no longer had to walk….or ride my bike…. into town to talk to my friends and relatives….I didn’t have to write a letter and wait a week for a reply. All I had to do was to pick up the receiver and make a simple call. But, I also recall that long distance calls were expensive back then……costing more than $1.00 per minute. As a child I didn’t dare make a long distance telephone call without permission of my parents……which, by the way, was never granted!

Maybe one of the good things about the early telephone was that we didn’t…..and couldn’t…..carry it around with us everywhere we go. We couldn’t whip it out at the most inconvenient and inappropriate times to check for calls…..or to send a text message….or whatever people do when they seem to be staring incessantly at their smart phones. Telephones were large….very large, by today’s standards…..and they were mounted on the wall. Each house usually had only ONE of them. Ours was located in the dining room. You could not make calls directly. You always had to go through a “telephone operator”, who would ask you, “Number, please?” Our first telephone number was something like 57OM (and that is the letter O….not the number Zero). And…..a person almost never had a private line…..a telephone line dedicated only to your own house. Usually, there were as many as four….or more….people on each “line”. You shared one telephone line…..and you took your turn in using it, if someone else happened to be talking on it at the time you wanted to talk on it.

I remember the first telephone call that I ever made. It was with a “neighbor” girl who lived across a field from us. I could have just as easily gone over to her house….it was only a five minute run, at the most. But, why do that when I could simply pick up the telephone and call her? Not much has changed in that respect….has it? In fact, today somebody could be sitting across the room, and we still prefer to send a text message rather than talk to them in person. At least, this is true for some people. Not me, though. I don’t remember what we talked about on that first phone call. I am sure we both struggled to think of something to say. But, who cares? We were talking on the telephone.

Back in those days, the telephone operator could be….and was…..a most valuable source of information. She knew EVERYTHING! And, why wouldn’t she? I am sure she listened to practically every conversation that was made. But….on the useful side: If I wanted to know where my mother was, she probably knew. All I had to do was ask her. When I called somebody, she would often say, “Oh, that person isn’t at home now. They are over at (somebody’s) house.” …..or they are uptown now. She served as sort of the town’s coordinator…..our locator service. She was also our clock! If we wanted the correct time, she would tell us. At least, what she thought the correct time was. And, I had an extra added bonus…..our telephone operator was one of our “neighbors”…..who lived down the road a half mile from us.

Our very first telephone was actually more modern that our next phone….the one we had when we moved into town. On the first one, all we had to do was pick up the receiver, and immediately the operator would ask what number we wanted to call. After we moved into Sterling, our telephone has a little handle that we had to crank in order to get the attention of the operator. And, then, eventually, we moved on to the rotary dial telephone…..and then the push button phone…..another giant step forward. It wasn’t until well after I moved to Valley Falls that I finally got my own private line, though……and after I retired that I got my first cell phone…..and well….I haven’t gotten a smart phone yet.

Well…..those seem to be the “biggies”…..about as far back in my memory that I can go without the help of some hypnotism or other sort of black magic that can help me see far back into my childhood. There are other memories, of course…..idyllic memories of carefree fun and childhood pleasures. Of freely roaming the territory that fanned out from our house. The woods, the streams, the railroad that ran just back of our property. Summer games such as hide and seek, baseball, cowboys and Indians with my brother and the neighbor kids. Climbing trees…..of climbing almost anything that could be climbed. Endless hours of riding my bicycle up and down the dirt roads. In the winter time: snowball fights, snow angels, snow forts, trapping hapless rabbits (but always letting them go), roaming the nearby woods with my brother and neighbor kids.

And, later on, as time went by there came other indispensable luxuries…..TV being the most notable. But, that wouldn’t come until I was in high school.

Most of the later luxuries were things we could live without, if it were absolutely necessary. Today, I wonder what young people are going to look back and marvel about…..and say, “Wow, when I was young we had to live without ——-!” What will they consider to be the inventions that greatly enriched their lives….things which have literally brought them into the modern world of the future….their future.

I don’t know. Maybe today all of the absolute basic necessities of life are already being taken for granted…. But, who knows what is to come: Complete independence from fossil fuels? Eradication of dreaded diseases? Easy and convenient duplication of vital body organs? Completely new forms of transportation? A revolution in diet and the foods that we eat? Or maybe it will be TV without the Kardashians or Justin Beber or Mylie Cyrus…..

Whatever it is, I can well imagine that kids of today will eventually being saying to their offspring, “Young people today have it so easy. Back when I was young……”

 

This spring, I got to take a class that I did not ask for…..that I did not enroll in. Let’s call it Blindness -.500. Notice the decimal point. It was definitely a lower level course…..but I experienced enough of it to know that I never, never want to take the full course. In fact, I would never want to see (no pun intended) anybody have to take this class. It is no fun…..and there is a chance that one may never get out of the class. Who is the teacher? Well….I am not even going to speculate on that question.

Once in a while, things just happen. And happen unexpectedly. They come from nowhere….and are contrary to everything that has happened in the past. Think about it… that is usually how we form our expectations: from past experiences…..and from the experiences of others. That is how insurance companies set their premiums; that is how gamblers determine odds of winning and losing. Most of the times, the odds work in your favor…..but sometimes they don’t. With me…..this time they didn’t.

But this is not a story of gloom and doom. It is a story of a partially salvaged Spring Break. It is also a story of a loyal, unselfish friendship…..an opportunity to set aside adversity and uncertainty……and to see (Yes….the pun is intended.) the bright side of life. 

This is why I call this blog “I See Said the (almost) Blind Man…..and Other Spring Break Fun.

Yes…..it started out with high hopes. Fayez Alruwaili was coming to spend Spring Break…..at his “home away from home”. I am always glad to see Fayez, because he seems to brighten up my life….and the lives of everyone…..when he is around. 

Friday afternoon I left the front door unlocked, because I knew that I would probably be asleep in my recliner when he arrived. And, of course…..I was. I don’t know how long he had been standing there, but I awoke suddenly….and there he was. I knew he would be there, but yet I am sure I let out a little exclamation of surprise. It is sort of like what happens when you are suddenly and unexpectedly awakened from a deep sleep.

There was some uncertainty about our plans. My great-nephew was stopping at my house on his way to his mother’s….my niece…..house in Hutchinson. Not having been told of when he would arrive, we quickly reviewed the potential sleeping arrangements for the night. I in my recliner; Fayez on the couch; my great-nephew could have the bed in the spare room….Fayez’s room…..and others could sleep in the bunk bed in my bedroom and in sleeping bags on the floor. And, we could always pitch a tent in the front yard. It would all work out.

But, we never had to use this plan of action, because my great-nephew called and said they would be spending the night at his sister’s house in Kansas City…..and would come to our house the next morning on their way to Hutchinson. 

This left us free to mobilize Plan B…..except we really didn’t have a Plan B. However, it didn’t take long to come up with a Plan B. We would go to Topeka to Weller’s Bar and Grill to eat supper and watch K. U. play in the semi-finals of the Big 12 Basketball Tournament. Quite frankly, I didn’t hold very high hopes for K. U……and they didn’t disappoint me. They lost to Iowa State….the result of….probably….lack of desire and motivation. Oh well……they were already assured of a spot in the NCAA tournament…..probably as a Number 3 or 4 seed, I thought…..but never as a Number 2 seed as it ended up. After we had finished our supper….and two or three large beers…..Diet Pepsi for Fayez…..it was getting late. And, we knew that we would not have to watch basketball again for another week. Neither of us really cared who won the Big 12 Tournament after K.U. was so ingloriously knocked out of it.

My great-nephew, Tim Darrah, was scheduled to arrive fairly early……8:30 or 9:00. And, he did.

Tim is the son of my niece, Wanita. I had been in contact with him for several years through Facebook and through e-mail. I had seen pictures of him at my brother’s (his grandfather) house; I had seen pictures of him on Facebook; and I had old baby pictures that my mother (his great-grandmother) had left in her collection of family pictures. But…..I had never met him in person. Oh, it is entirely possible…and very probable… that I saw him when he was a toddler…..but certainly never when he was a “real person”. 

From the Facebook messages and from the e-mail messages that he had written over the years, I already knew that he was a bright….and very literate and articulate….person. And, I was looking forward very much to his arrival.

Around 9:00, there was a knock at the door. There he was. And, he looked pretty much like his pictures…..maybe a little taller than I had envisioned, and maybe his hair was a little longer than some of the pictures that I had seen. And, of course…..the beard. He had been in the military…..and most of the pictures I had seen were taken during that period. But….nevertheless, it was a happy and welcome meeting. I had finally met Tim….or Timmy, as I always heard him referred as.

With him were two of his kids…..Kaeli, probably around 3 years old, and Tristan, a junior in high school. Kaeli was amazingly literate for her age….and smart, too. While initially restless, after I gave her something to eat and drink…..and after Tim got her interested in a cartoon on his smart phone….she became absorbed in it.

Fayez, who was still asleep when they arrived, woke up and joined us…..rather sleepy eyed…..but yet, seemingly awake! 

Tim is developing software for an automatic door opener. Wow! Finally…..maybe another Einstein in our family. Another Bill Gates….maybe. As he demonstrated the software he had developed up that point, I am sure that Fayez had a much better understanding and grasp of what he was saying. My mind simply does not process scientific information very well. Well….I do know what an automatic door opener is. But….how is works? That is better left to people with a more scientific mind than mine.

Tristan, Tim’s son, who had been asleep in the car woke up and came inside the house. That is probably what he and Fayez have in common…..both like to sleep. Nevertheless, after taking some pictures, Tim left to travel on to Hutchinson…..a course Fayez and I would soon be following.

It is a rather strange feeling to meet somebody so close in relationship after such a long period of time. Somebody who was a stranger…..but yet a blood relative. A person who shares the same last name, the same relatives, the same heritage…..but somebody whom I felt I met twenty-six years too late. But, it was also an easy, happy meeting. It was a good way to start off the Spring Break activities.

Shortly after Tim and his family left, we, also, were on the road heading toward Hutchinson. This was the first trip Fayez had made through the Flint Hills and finally onto the pancake flat land of Central Kansas that I call home. 

We arrived in Hutchinson in mid-afternoon….and drove straight to my niece’s house. There again, we met up with Tim…..and also with my great-niece, Trina….who were staying at my niece’s house. For Fayez and me, time was starting to run down….the clock was ticking toward 7:00, when we had tickets to attend “Fiddler on the Roof”. After Fayez took some pictures……pictures with four generations of Darrah’s represented…..we left to find our motel. That task really did not require a PhD in geography…….because, after all, Hutchinson was my “big city” until I was twenty-two years old.

After eating dinner at a Chinese buffet across the Highway 61, we headed to Hutchinson Community College to attend a performance of “Fiddler on the Roof”…..our official reason for being in Hutch in the first place.

Before the performance began, I had cautioned Fayez that this was a student performance…..not a professional performance. It was being presented by the students of Hutch Community College….basically a bunch of kids. And, probably a majority of them were not even music or theater majors. Having sat through a myriad of student plays and student musical programs in my life time as a teacher and counselor, my expectations were already fairly low. No disrespect intended…..but I am quite familiar with the quality of work displayed by students of this age.

Fayez, on the other hand, had much higher expectations. He had attended performances at Wichita State University, which were performed by upper class theater and music majors…..or actors and musicians from the professional world. Believe me….there is a vast difference between watching a 13^th grader and a Broadway cast member. Sort of like comparing a Little League baseball game to the Kansas City Royals.

At any rate, I was pretty well prepared as the curtain went up and the performance started. Yes……for a group of inexperienced kids, they did a creditable job. They knew their lines….they knew the music….they spoke in reasonably audible voice….they didn’t appear to be overly nervous….. Yes….it wasn’t so bad, looking at it from this perspective. 

But, Fayez……

He simply didn’t like it. Actually, I think he was expecting too much. But, at the end of the first act, which seemed to go on interminably, we both agreed that it was time to go. And, it was intermission….a natural, normal time. Most of the people left their seats to go into the lobby to stretch their legs. Some went outside to smoke. We went outside….not to smoke….but to get into our car and leave.

Well….OK. Actually, I really didn’t like the play very well, either. But….the reason I didn’t like it was…..I simply don’t care for Broadway musicals…..even if is one of the most popular, longest-running musicals of all time. And, at least, Fayez was able to keep his eyes open during the first act. That was more than I could do. Set me in a room…..turn the lights down….and I am out like a light. I don’t think I fell asleep this time, though. I merely closed my eyes and listened…..contrary to what Fayez may think.

Having accomplished the main objective of the trip….making sure Fayez had a ticket and a program to take back with him…..we spent the remainder of the evening sitting in the Grand Slam Sports Bar at the Ramada Inn. Every TV in the bar was tuned to the Big 12 Championship game between Iowa State and Baylor. And, in the background was the loudest, most annoying music that can be found in any bar in Hutchinson. Well….I assume that is a true statement….but I have only been in one bar in Hutch….and this is it. The last time I was there, we asked one of the waitresses if she could turn down the music a decibel or two. She apologetically and politely told us that she had no control over the music. I think I have figured out the reason for the excessively loud music…..This must be a bar that caters to deaf people…..or at least, people who are hard of hearing. But….most definitely…..it was far better than sitting through the second act of “Fiddler on the Roof”.

The next day…..Sunday…..we had intended to drive back home and go watch one of my friends in a bicycle race at Lake Perry. I think we already knew on Saturday night that this was not going to happen. When we came out of the sports bar to go to our car, the temperature had already dropped several degrees….and the wind was blowing furiously. Neither of us had brought a warm, winter jacket with us. When we left my house on Saturday, the weather was sunny and beautiful. When we got back to the motel room, I checked the weather forecast for Topeka. Temperatures in the 30’s and chance of snow. Not very conducive to standing outside to watch anything! In fact, we assumed that the race would be canceled….or at least postponed to another day. Wow….racing a bicycle in barely above freezing temperatures….with wind….and snow? To go ahead and race in that kind of weather? That would take some real dedication….or the skin of a polar bear.

So…..Sunday morning we decided to drive directly to Lawrence and eat lunch at the Aladdin Restaurant…..a Lebanese place that serves a buffet for Sunday lunch. If Lebanese food is an acquired taste…..then I have acquired it. The food is exotic, spicy, and highly delicious. It was well worth the drive to Lawrence. A nice walk up and down Massachusetts Avenue would have been welcome…..and beneficial. But, because of the weather, that possibility was immediately ruled out. Instead, we went to a Middle East food store to buy some desert for a cook out we were planning for later in the coming week.

The weekend was a perfect start to what we hoped would be a pleasant, fun-filled week ahead.

Then came Monday.

It was a day like any other day…… Except this was the day I had surgery on my right eye to remove a cataract and to replace the lens. I was prepared for it. Fayez had put three different eye drops….at $125 a bottle… into my eye the required three times on Sunday. Actually, I was sort of looking forward to it. I had gone through it before. The hardest part of the procedure was to lie still for the thirty or forty minutes that it took to complete the process. But, after it was over, I was looking forward to seeing clearly again.

About two months previously, I had the same surgery performed on my left eye. Everything went well. The surgery was virtually painless. For about eight or ten hours following the surgery, my eye felt like it had an eye lash in it….or maybe a tiny grain of sand. Not really “pain”…..but enough of an annoyance to want to rub it or scratch it. That is why I wore a plastic protective covering over it. By sometime that evening, even this feeling had disappeared. My eye was terribly bloodshot….almost bright red….but that was a cosmetic distraction…..not a painful one. I could see out of the eye. Not well, of course….but I could definitely see, even though things were blurry and indistinct. 

Thus…..when Monday morning dawned, bright and sunny, I approached the day with very little nervousness or apprehension. Fayez put the eye drops into my right eye….and we set off for Topeka and the Stormont-Vail Single Day Surgery Unit. This would be the last time I would drive a car for the next week.

The surgery was scheduled for 7:45 A.M. The entire process was estimated to take about three hours. There was no need for Fayez to wait around, so he took off for the North YMCA to work out. The nurse had his cell phone number so she could call him when I was ready to be released.

Things went wrong from the very beginning. The operating table was broken. It needed a new part before they could begin any surgery. The part had been ordered out of Kansas City…..and it was in transit from Kansas City to Topeka. In the meantime, I was sort of in limbo. I was already checked in….and they didn’t want me to leave. On the other hand…..there was nothing they could do….or that I could do….except wait. The nurses and doctors seemed to be agitated. I could hear them talking in the background. I am quite sure they weren’t very concerned about me……but I am sure they were concerned about running behind and possibly having to postpone surgeries that would follow mine. You know……Money, money, money!

The nurses were thoughtful enough to take me into a rather quiet room….away from the hustle and bustle of the main holding area…..where there was a chair that reclined. That, in itself, was a major blessing. Now…I can hardly wait to see how much they billed my insurance for the use of the chair. Anyway, I almost immediately fell asleep…..and that is a great way to make time pass quickly! In the meantime, assorted doctors, nurses and technicians would drop by periodically to ask how I was doing and to assure me that “It won’t be much longer.”

More than two hours late, they finally took me into the surgery room and proceeded with the surgery. Since I had already been through this procedure once before, I had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen. After they had isolated my entire body, except for the right eye, the doctor began with the surgery. Again, he told me that it would be painless….and all I would feel would be some pressure as he made three incisions, extracted the old lens, and inserted the new lens. First of all, somebody applied some eye drops……and some thick jelly-like substance to my eye. These were, I think, the preliminary anesthetic….to deaden the eye so I wouldn’t feel the needle as they injected the final pain killer.

There was a problem, though. I felt the needle as he stuck it into my eye. It wasn’t exactly excruciating…..but, believe me…..it was still pain. I thought, “Oh well….that will kill the pain, and I won’t feel it any longer.” This is where I began to suspect that something had gone wrong. Not only could I feel “pressure”, but I could also feel pain. And…..this is the point where I was pretty sure something had gone wrong! I told the doctor that I could feel pain. “Oh…don’t worry. The pain will go away in a minute or two.” A few minutes later, I told him again…..”I can still feel pain.” Again….”That’s normal. It will stop in just a minute.”

Unfortunately, it didn’t stop. But, again, it wasn’t unbearable pain. So, I didn’t mention it again…..although I was pretty sure that this was not a good sign.

They finished….put the protective plastic cover on my eye….sent me to the recovery room…..and it was over. 

They called Fayez on his cell phone. Fortunately, he was across the street in the parking lot….or somewhere very near. He picked me up at the front door…..and this is where Fayez more or less took over. This is where I am sure I unintentionally started to ruin his Spring Break!

I put on my dark glasses…..my Mafia glasses…..and we went home……straight home. When we arrived home, actually, I didn’t feel so badly. I posed for a couple pictures….of course. And, for the lack of anything else to do, I went inside and sat in my recliner. The eye still hurt….but it was a different kind of “hurt”. After the surgery on my left eye…..like I said…..the eye felt irritated, like there was an eye lash caught in the eye….or a piece of dust….or something similar….in my eye. But, this time, it was real pain. Again, it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

As he did for the next three days, Fayez fixed something to eat. We sat and talked. He put the eye drops into my eye……eye drops that cost $125 for a little bottle less than one inch tall……and there were three of them! I want to buy some stock in that company! And…..then while he was studying, I took my usual eighty-minute nap. That is the length of the music CDs that I “listen” to as I sleep.

When I awoke, there was still some pain. But…..no problem. It will go away soon. We decided to go to Terry’s Bar and Grill in Topeka….probably our favorite bar because it is a neighborhood bar….relatively quiet and very friendly…..and safe. Of course, Fayez drove….. And, of course, I wore my dark Secret Service glasses. We sat and talked until about midnight and then went back home. All in all….not such a bad day. Yes….my eye was still hurting….but surely it would stop hurting soon……just like it did last time. I covered my left eye to see how well I could see out of my right eye. I couldn’t. There was nothing. The only things I could “see” was a solid yellow-tanish color….much like the color of a manila envelop. Oh well….tomorrow morning, things would start getting back to normal again.

Fayez put the three eye drops into my eye….three different kinds at $125.00 a bottle, remember? I taped the protective plastic covering on eye….and went to bed.

Tuesday morning, I woke up, took the protective plastic covering off my eye…..and washed it gently with a wash cloth. The doctor had told me not to take a shower and get the eye wet for five days…..but that I could wash it with a warm, damp cloth.

I proceeded to make a cup of coffee, and went to my office to check my e-mail…..a major chore all by itself. Needless to say, my vision was not very good…..looking out of my left eye only….and with somewhat blurry vision in that eye. I went back to front room, sat down in my recliner…..and thought, “OK. I will do another test on my right eye to see how well I can see this morning.

Nothing. Not even a shadow. Just the same yellowish color. And, my eye was still hurting a little. “Come on now,” I thought. “I was already seeing things last time. What’s the problem now?”

At that point, I was more annoyed than alarmed. Fayez got up…..put more eye drops into my eye. And, I closed my eyes, thinking that I would take a short nap and let my eye rest some more. However, I started to feel nauseated…..sick….very sick! 

Oh wow…..It must have been something I ate last night…..probably a touch of food poisoning. But…..why isn’t Fayez sick? We ate chips and cheese dip out of the same bowl. What did I do? Get the only bad chip in the bowl? And, who ever heard of getting food poisoning from tortilla chips? I felt miserable. I tried to vomit…..but (fortunately for me!) I couldn’t. Fayez started to get worried…..and so did I…..just a little bit. I checked my vision again. There was still not a trace of vision in my right eye.

Upon Fayez’s urging….and it didn’t take much…..I called the doctor’s office and told the nurse what was happening. The doctor wasn’t there at the time, but a few minutes later, he called on his cell phone and told me to come to his office as soon as possible. I didn’t feel like going…..but, again, with Fayez driving, we went down to his office.

He examined my eye and said that a lot of pressure had built up behind my eye…..maybe from swelling, I am not sure……and that there was a small blood clot. That was what was causing me to feel so badly. I had no idea that something like this could happen: That swelling or pressure on an eye could cause such a radical effect on my digestive system. He put some different drops into my eye…..and gave me the bottle to take home….for free this time….Another drop for Fayez to put into my eye. It was sort of like watering flowers.

Unfortunately, I felt like….. Well, I still didn’t feel very well the rest of the afternoon. Again Fayez fixed lunch…..and put some drops into my eye. Again, I zonked out in my recliner. I wasn’t very entertaining company that afternoon. And, Fayez was more or less left to his own devices. I think he drove down to Paradise Point to run. I am really starting to feel like a really great host!

Fayez prepared some delicious Saudi Arabian food for supper. That made me feel somewhat better……raised my spirits a little bit. We stayed at home that night. There was no use in even pretending that I felt like going anywhere.

I decided to test my vision again. Nothing. Zip. Not even a shadow. I began to get a little nervous. Maybe I would be walking around with a patch over my right eye for the rest of my life. More eye drops……back to bed again.

Wednesday. This was the last full day that Fayez would be here. Let me test my vision. Again…..nothing. Just like staring at a manila envelop. My spirits were starting to sink. It was the third day with no sight in my right eye.

Fayez took me back to the doctor again. More magic eye drops. No explanations.

On the way home we took a time out so Fayez could run on the Ferguson Road for four miles. I wanted him to get something beneficial out of his Spring Break! As for me…..I was the one who benefited beyond words from him during Spring Break. But…..that is not what Spring Breaks are for. 

The remainder of the day we…..well, we did nothing. I still did not feel well. I could see only out of one eye…..and even that eye was not clear. We had to cancel a cookout that afternoon….something that was supposed to be a highlight of the week. Man, I hope Fayez is having more fun than I am having! 

Noon…..more of the magic drops. Still no sight in my right eye. And, I paid $125 a bottle for those eye drops!? I am starting to mentally design the patch I will wear over my eye. Maybe….one for around the house; another one to wear in casual outings; maybe another one to wear to church and other dress-up occasions. No…..wait. Maybe I will just wear dark glasses. People won’t be able to see my eye….and they will never know. It will be my “new look”. I have always thought it would be neat to get a flat top and have my hair dyed deep black. But, this might be even better.

In the early evening, we decided to get out of the house and go somewhere. After all, this was the last night of Fayez’s exciting, enjoyable and fun-filled stay at my house.   I was still not feeling at all well….in fact, I was still feeling miserable, but I could be miserable almost anywhere. And, at least one of us should be having a good time…..that should be Fayez. So, why not go somewhere? We decided to spend it at Terry’s Bar and Grill again. 

Upon returning home….somewhere after midnight…..I did the “sight test” again.

Wow…..I could see shadows! I could see the light of the lamps. I could see the shadow of my hand in front of my face. I could even see the flickering light of the TV. If I had not know beforehand what each of these objects was…..they would have remained a mystery. But…..at least, I was starting to see again!

Good old Magic Eye Drops! Maybe the $125 per bottle is starting to pay off.

Fayez had to leave and go back to college on Thursday morning. I hated to see him go….and I was just a little bit apprehensive about staying by myself. However, we had already gone shopping, and I had enough food to last about ten days. I had no doctor appointments until the following Tuesday. And, I felt that IF I had to drive, I could probably do it. The vision in my left eye had gradually improved…..but only to about 80% to 85% of what it was before the surgery. Not good enough. On Tuesday, the doctor looked at it, examined it, put eye drops in it…..and more or less proclaimed it was healed. Of course….it wasn’t his eye.

Probably the most helpful advice came from my cousin. She had been a surgical nurse for an ophthalmologist for more than twenty years. She told me that it was probably the various eye drops that were preventing the vision from improving. As soon as I stopped using eye drops, she thought, the vision would improve quickly. And…..she was right. Send your bill to Medicare! Your advice was worth it.

So…..here I am one month later. I can see again. Not any better than I could before all the surgery…..but, nevertheless, I can see. And, thank Heavens for that. I strongly suspect that I never needed any of the surgery in the first place. If I did, my results turned out much differently than all the other people I talked to who had cataracts removed. Their stories…..one hundred percent of them….were glowing testimonials of how wonderful the surgery had been…..how much better they could see in the aftermath of the surgery. For me, it simply didn’t turn out that way. My eyesight is back to where I started the entire process. Certainly no better than that…..and I think I can honestly say….no worse.

What did I learn from all this misery…..and for over a week, it was misery? I learned very few medical lessons. Maybe to always get a second opinion before plunging into such a serious procedure. I also learned that just because something goes smoothly the first time….it doesn’t necessarily mean it will go smoothly the second time. And, I learned that I am glad that I have only two eyes.

However, I think the memory I will probably have of both of the surgeries is that I have a friend who cheerfully….and without complaint…..sacrificed his Spring Break to help me…..to act as driver, cook, doctor, friend…..and made life infinitely easier at a time when I needed it.

Looking back….I was probably never in danger of losing eyesight in my right eye. I am sure the doctor had dealt with situations like this before. But, that was a little bit difficult to understand while going 3 long days with not a hint of vision. We made the best of a bad situation….and it ended happily ever after. And there were other things to be thankful for, too…..During the last surgery, we had a lot of snow. Fayez “entertained” me by treating me to a snowball fight. Now it was March. No snow like the last time. No more snowball fights. No more being pushed to the ground and being bombarded mercilessly with snow, as I lay helplessly in a foot of snow…..by a Saudia Arabian desert dweller, of all people. Yes…..it ended happily ever after.

Yeah…..I can see, said the (almost) blind man…..and what a fun Spring Break it was!

And my next step is to buy stock in the company that manufactures and sells those eye drops.