On April 4th, after a two month delay, I was scheduled for cataract surgery on my left eye.  My operation time was 9:00 AM and I needed to be available one hour before the actual surgery.  That meant 7:00 in case there was cancellation and they needed to bump me up an hour.  That created a serious problem.  I couldn't get a bus with a lift that early, so other arrangements had to be made.  I had to borrow a "regular" wheelchair and leave my power chair in my room.  I suppose obstacles are there for us to overcome.  Next, I had to get up in that big SUV of Terri's as she was elected to get me there on time.  It's no mean feat to get a one-legged man with a torn rotator cuff in his right shoulder into a tall car at 6:30 in the AM.  Somehow we made it with 5 minutes to spare.

The waiting room was empty, no surprise, I was relegated to a far corner so I'd be out of the way.  I settled in with my book for a long wait.  The room filled rapidly and being a writer, I enjoy watching folks as they gather.  The "dynamics" are fascinating.

It soon filled with eight people of various descriptions and I buried my head in my book.  No one was seated close to me.  When I looked up and scanned the room, it suddenly struck me that there was no conversation taking place.  An elderly lady was reading and the rest had their heads bent down looking at their phones, I guess they were "texting."  I can't do that, my phone is too "dumb."  I thought to myself, "no wonder people don't talk to each other, they're forgetting how."

My surgery went well and I went back to the Gardens with a patch on one eye and looking forward to the next day when that would come off.

When the patch was taken away my vision was amazing!  I described it as a "pop" in that left eye, it was though I had been looking through a cloudy balloon and you stuck a pin in it.  My eyesight was so clear that I could read all the charts clearly.  Dr. Petty had done a superb job.  I always make it a practice to thank not only the doctor, but all those who assist him.  He can't do it alone.

Unfortunately, the bus schedule and mine don't always mesh, so I've become an "expert" at waiting.  I always bring a book.  I had an hour and a half to get acquainted with the waiting room.

A pleasant looking gent sat down next to me and we began to talk.  I can't recall everything we talked about, but the bus was there way too soon.  We said our goodbyes and I never expected to see the man again.

The next day I was trying to finish a book (with regular print) when there was a knock at the door.  Thinking it was one of the caregivers, I naturally said, "come in." 

"Hey Bill, remember me from the doctor's office?"  "Do you have a few minutes to talk?"  

It took me a while because it was such a surprise!  Then it clicked, "sure come on in and sit down."  We talked for two solid hours and he left only because his daughter kept calling, they were anxious to leave.  As he went, he took my number and asked if he could come back.  "Sure, anytime!"

Oh, did I mention his name is "Pat!"  My dead son's name is "Pat."  What a coincidence, or was it?  So far I haven't heard from "Pat," but in cany case I had the pleasure of "The Visitor."

                               ----Bill Steinberg

I have a very strong "sensation" that we will meet again in the not too distant future.  See ya, then, Pat!