Tomorrow I’m having major eye surgery. Briefly, I dislodged the artificial lens in my right eye and it needs to be removed and replaced. In the world according to custom this should be easy but I have severely damaged retinas in both eyes—this is why I’m blind to begin with. The procedure will be tricky. I joke about it. “If I lose the eye I’ll wear an eye patch and get a parrot…”
All surgery is risky. And while this isn’t as precarious as many operations, my anxiety levels are “elevated.”
Anxiety stands flickering in the sunlight.
Anxiety accuses me of what I’ve never become.
It flies in the mind like excited birds.
Planet of the Blind 