I should have known better. When a surgeon says "No problem, just a snip here and a snip there and you'll be all fixed up," that's not the full story.
All this started with a routine eye exam by an ophthalmologist. I complained of blurred vision, probably due to eyestrain. He diagnosed my complaint as 'Posterior Capsule Opacity.' I'd had cataract surgery a number of years ago. The capsule is a sack-like thingie in an eye that encloses the lens and in my case the plastic implant. The posterior, or backside, of my capsule had become cloudy. Not a big problem, it can be treated by using a sharply-focused YAG laser to burn holes through the backside. It's painless, with a small risk of detaching a retina. For that reason, only one eye is done at a time.
Okay, I went for the procedure, both eyes. It was a one minute laser burn following a hour and a half wait in an out-patient queue, then a week later, a retina check following a two hour wait in the doctor's office. Times two. The time and effort spent was worthwhile, my vision improved.
My ophthalmologist reminded me that he'd earlier diagnosed a case of eyelid ptosis, or drooping eyelids, and that I should consider getting the condition corrected as that would improve my eyesight even more. He wasn't the first caregiver to make that diagnosis; I had been dodging their recommendations for over twenty years. However, lately I'd been having problems that I could relate to the condition. The ophthalmologist offered to refer me to a plastic surgeon who specializes in blepharoplasty, the slicing and dicing of eyelids, etc.
Naturally, the surgeon recommended the full monty, eyelids AND eyebrows. If he mentioned the pain, I failed to hear that part. The first word I recall saying in recovery was "hurt." I've said it more than once since then. Pain pills and ice packs on my face for the first three days. Warm packs and Tylenol after that. More muscles than I expected were involved. They all caused (cause) pain. Eye-movement muscles, eye-focusing muscles eye-dilating muscles, and more. Next Tuesday will be the second week anniversary of the surgery. I've decided I will (and want) to survive.
I've spent a lot of the time in a recliner listening to television, the medical commercials, the talk of a whole bunch of serious side effects. I decided that:
Life is a serious side effect of not being dead.