A Torn Retina And A Spotted Dick?

I celebrated my birthday Thursday. Because it was in fact my birthday, so it seemed like the right thing to do. This is my fourth year to celebrate my birthday here in Fuengirola. It’s become a tradition to go to Sandpiper Restaurant if only to have the opportunity to share the celebration with Jessica, even though she has to work.

In honor of my torn (no longer) retina, I thought I should have a defective-sounding dessert (in the UK, called pudding). So, I opted for some Spotted Dick. It’s much better than it sounds. (Click here to read the original story of Spotted Dick and another traditional English, um, pudding.)

I OBSESSED WITH AESTHETICALLY ARRANGING JESSICA’S STARS AND HAPPY BIRTHDAYS.
SAN GERALDO’S SOLUTION WAS TO SHOVEL THEM INTO A PILE…
…AFTER CONSIDERING A MELTDOWN, I SATISFIED MYSELF WITH THIS.
MY SPOTTED DICK.
(OR AS JESSICA PREFERS TO CALL IT, SPOTTED RICHARD.)
SMILING DESPITE A RECENTLY TORN RETINA
AND A SPOTTED DICK.
And since I enjoyed some Spotted Dick, I thought you might enjoy a Little Richard…

Cooking Cat Poop and Retinas

I saw the ophthalmologist again Tuesday afternoon. My retina needed more laser repair. As before, it was done immediately. I’ve now started counting two weeks all over again.

Two weeks of no exercise. Two weeks of not turning my head too quickly. Two weeks of staying close to home and not being too animated.

Two more weeks of fricking strolling. Oh, I’m sorry. The doctor didn’t say that. For some reason he omitted the word “fricking.”

So, poor me. I guess I’ll just have to spend the next two weeks sipping cafe con leche at a local park, spending lazy afternoons lounging on the beach outside our door. Maybe some truffles when I get home each day to ease my suffering.

San Geraldo has been wonderful. “Slow down, Mitchell.” “That’s not a stroll, Mitchell.” “You shouldn’t be doing that, Mitchell.”

I haven’t even been taking down the trash. Every morning, as is his routine, San Geraldo scoops out the cats’ litter box, drops the poop in a sandwich bag, and places the bag in our open-air laundry room (whose door into the kitchen, we tend to leave open during the day). I then toss that bag in with the trash and take it down.

Since I’m not supposed do things like haul bags of trash or lift heavy dumpster lids, if I forget to take down that little bag of poop, it bakes all day in the sunny laundry room… along with several bags of trash.

Tuesday morning, I came home after coffee and the house smelled like overcooked cat poop (which is even worse than uncooked cat poop). I’ve learned that two days above 37C (97F) is not the proper temperature for keeping poop fresh. So, I broke the rules and took out the trash (and the baked goods).

San Geraldo has given me permission to nag him. And he’s promised he won’t talk back.

Doctor My Eyes

Don’t worry. The lased eye is doing fine. But take a look at what I spotted on the paseo last night. I’m not supposed to turn my head quickly, so I had to do a slow-motion double-take.

Sorry it’s blurry; I must have focused with my left eye.

I thought this guy deserved a page all his own, even if he has put back my recovery by at least a week.

Was I unwise to leave them open for so long?

Eye Eye, Sir

Monday afternoon, I found myself swatting swarms of gnats and here and there a fly away from my face.

I never once hit one.

Floaters. In my left eye. It was very disconcerting.

Tuesday, the floaters were worse. Along with flies and gnats, I now had the most unusual inky looking swirling lines that changed in pressure and varied from black to sepia. I thought, “Well this is kind of beautiful and not at all annoying.” But the swirls were quickly gone, leaving only the gnats and flies.

Wednesday, when I noticed that, in addition to the floaters, the vision in my left eye had become slightly cloudy, I remembered that San Geraldo had recently had a similar experience in his right eye (the floaters, not the cloudiness). He didn’t describe his as anything so interesting or beautiful (but then, he wouldn’t). He went to the ophthalmologist and learned that he had a vitreal detachment, a common problem with sometimes dangerous results. He was fortunate that his required no treatment and has gotten less noticeable with time.

I thought, “Well, maybe I should call for an appointment.”

Then I told San Geraldo about the cloudy vision, and he said, “We need to go to Urgent Care.”

Well, I didn’t just have a detachment, I had a torn retina (probably a result of a violent sneezing fit early Monday) needing immediate surgery. The tear was medium in size and went far back, which made it difficult for the doctor to reach it all during laser repair. But so far so good. I have to go back Tuesday.

The worst part of all this — other than the fact that I can’t do any kind of physical activity for two weeks, although the doctor did tell me I could “stroll” if I liked. (I don’t know how to “stroll”! There’s fast and there’s less fast.) — Anyway, the worst is that I lost my mobile phone somewhere between the hospital and home and had to buy a new one today.

There is a lesson here: I probably should listen more to San Geraldo. Oh Captain, My Captain!

MY PUPIL IS STILL DILATED… IT REMINDS ME OF MY UNIVERSITY DAYS!