All is Vanity: Gerda, AFTER

When my opthalmologist told me that I would benefit from eyelid surgery because my droopy eyelids were obscuring a large portion of my upper visual field, one of the first things that came to mind was gratitude that there was such a thing as Medicare and that they would pay–“they” being the two different government funds consisting of my and all the other taxpayers’ 1.45% FICA (Federal Insurance Contributions Act) on every penny we earned; plus our employers’ matching 1.45%; plus tax money designated by Congress for these funds.

Next there were my ethical concerns: I have always advocated the utilitarian position that medical care should go to the people who need it most AND benefit from it the longest. I certainly did not need the surgery: while it would be nice to not have to stretch my neck like a llama’s to reach a height from where the top of my computer screen would be included in my visual field, I could not–like other surgery recipients–claim that I was a danger on the road without it. (I had actually given up my driver’s license six years ago.) As for how long the benefits would last in my case: my ability to see over the next ten or so years is, in fact, going to be determined by my unfixable brain rather than my fixable eyes; the concept of “diminishing vision” would, in years to come, apply to me in the sense of abbreviated foresight, that is, I will lack (am already lacking) a “vision statement,” “a road map indicating both what an entity wants to become and guiding transformational initiatives by setting a defined direction for its growth.” In this context, can I honestly justify an expensive surgery funded by taxpayers, even if I contributed to the cost myself?

Doña Quixote: “Don’t want no Cap’n Crunch, don’t want no Raisin Bran/ Well don’t you know that other kids are starvin’ in Japan?”

Max Scheler: Modern philosophical jargon has found a revealing term for…one of the many modern substitutes for love: “altruism.” This love is not directed at a previously discovered positive value, nor does any such value flash up in the act of loving: there is nothing but the urge to turn away from oneself and to lose oneself in other people’s business. We all know a certain type of man frequently found among socialists, suffragettes, and all people with an ever-ready “social conscience”— the kind of person whose social activity is quite clearly prompted by inability to keep his attention focused on himself, on his own tasks and problems. Looking away from oneself is here mistaken for love!

Erma Bombeck: Remember all those women on the Titanic who waved off the dessert cart!

Reader, I went for the dessert.

As the beneficiary of a smorgasbord of surgeries, let me just say that this one was a breeze. Contrary to my many toe and foot fixes, colon shortening, and “feminine” surgeries, I have not had a single pain tablet after this one. No wonder–it started out as a lot of fun with face painting.

Left, my magnificent surgeon, Tom Oberg, measures and marks my eyelids. Right, not my face, but an example of how the eyelid is marked before the surgery.

Peter hung out with me before the surgery, keeping me laughing all the time as usual. He loves being present when I get that first “relaxing shot” before being wheeled in. He reports that, this time, I kept on asking him for another hug or kiss, until Dr. Oberg whisked me off to the operating room.

Let me tell you about Thomas J Oberg, MD, Eyelid and Facial Surgeon, who did my surgery. He is originally from Long Island, N.Y., served in the United States Marine Corps before graduating Summa Cum Laude at the University of Arizona, and subsequently received his medical degree from the University of Arizona College of Medicine. After completing his residency in ophthalmology at the John A. Moran Eye Center at the University of Utah–where he was the recipient of a prestigious research award–he completed a fellowship in oculo-facial plastic surgery at a Salt Lake City medical group known as Oculoplastic Surgery Inc, where he received advanced training in cosmetic and reconstructive surgery of the eyelids and face.

All done: how time flies with a bit of propofol!

I don’t mind the temporary unsightliness–for the first time in decades, I can see the tops of my irises!

Let’s see now: what else can I have done? Will have to visit that dishy Dr. Oberg again soon…