A Different Outlook!

Vaughn C. Hardacker

Vaughn Hardacker here: In my last post, I talked about my battle with motivation to write. There’s not a lot of change in that. However, the day after that post, I had the cataract removed from my left eye. I found the prospect of having my eyes operated on. I met with the ophthalmologist to discuss the procedure. I found myself studying his hands closely. Mentally, I asked myself some questions: (1) Does he have Parkinson’s? (2) What if halfway through the procedure, he sneezes?

The second question brought to mind memories of my first surgery. After I left active duty (Marines never get out of the Corps- we go into a state we call “no longer on active duty.”), I joined the National Guard. When I had been in for a year, the commanding officer asked me if I wanted to become an officer. My highest rank in the Corps was sergeant (my officer-in-charge in Vietnam asked me the same thing … at that time, I deferred, saying I planned to go to college,) and the thought of becoming an officer (in the military Offers are considered to be gentlemen and ladies. It was my experience that many of them are neither. Enlisted men and women are rabble.) was enticing.

The first requirement was that I undergo a physical at Loring Air Force Base (anyone who has ever taken a draft or military physical will tell you how inhuman they can be–usually, they are done in a large, cold room, and there are twenty or more men there at the same time. During the exam, you are told to drop your boxer shorts, bend over, and spread your cheeks (I will never forget the guy who pulled his facial cheeks during our draft physical.). To this day, I have no idea what they were looking for. The result of the physical was that I did not pass due to a funny chest x-ray. I spent five weeks in the Togus VA Hospital, where they ran various tests. They did a tuberculosis tine test, to which I did not react. I sat on a stationary bike and pedaled my butt off while I inhaled through my nose and exhaled into a mouthpiece. After some time, I noticed something appear on my right.

I had blown up a weather balloon! Still nothing. Finally, they opted to do a right chest biopsy. After which, I spent a wonderful five days in the ICU (the first three of them, all I recall was waking up and asking for a pain killer–they later told me it was morphine, and after three days, I was taken off before I became addicted). I had a tube coming out of my back that terminated into a bottle on a unique caddy on wheels. I was told that I needed to walk, and I did so by pulling the bottle behind me. I called it walking my dog. Finally, the doctor came in and asked if I wanted to see what he did to me. I said, “Yes.” He got a couple of mirrors and handed one to me. Then he opened my Johnny and used the second mirror to show me the foot-long scar on my back. I was shocked and asked, “How much did you take out of me?” His reply was, “Not much. Just enough to get enough to study on a microscope slide. My reply was, “What happened? You start cutting and sneeze?” He laughed and said to get at your lungs, we go through the back rather than cut through your pectoral muscles.” It turned out that they found TB.

The strangest thing about the cataract operation is that the anesthesia is only used so they can put the eye to sleep. During the last five minutes of the surgery, I conversed with the anesthesiologist and doctor.

During the operation and my short stay in the hospital, they sent me home wearing an eye patch. When I got home, I lay down and fell asleep. Two hours later, my eye began tearing so much it was like a stream of water flowing down my cheek. If that wasn’t bad enough, there was a log in my eye … or so I thought. The next three hours were agony, and then the pain stopped (until I had to take four different drops in that eye every hour). Then Jane, my resident sadist, reminded me I was getting the right eye done the following week.

The bottom line. Before the surgery, I needed glasses to see any distance and readers for reading. I still need readers for reading, but I have not worn glasses since. Between getting the left and right eye, if I closed the right, things looked brighter, and colors were more brilliant.

In closing, if you have cataracts, have them done! Other than the period where your eye waters and it feels like a spike has been driven into it, it’s worth it. You will, as my doctor said, get new eyes and an entirely different outlook.

P.S. If they offer to give you a pamphlet describing the procedure, DON’T READ IT! It scared me, especially when they talk about making a hole and removing the old lens.

P.P.S. On February 20, 2025, I and several other Maine authors will appear after the Penobscot Theater Company’s 7:00 pm performance of Dial M For Murder at the Bangor Opera House (131 Main Street, Bangor, ME ). If you’d like to see a terrific play and meet a group of Maine Crime and Thriller writers, you can obtain tickets at https://www.penobscottheatre.org/…