Monday 22 April 2019

I should have known better

than to let David near sharp knives and screwdrivers ...

Let me explain:

In our house there are two toilets, one is in the bathroom which adjoins the bedroom, and the other is in its own little room with a handbasin. I use the former, and for some reason, David has eschewed that one and uses the latter. Not sure why. In addition, almost all of our guests use the latter. Many of our guests are men - this fact is important.

We each take responsibility for cleaning our 'own' toilet and basin (that also means I get to clean the shower and sweep and wash the floors of both rooms - not sure how that works, but suspect it is more of the domestic blindness that seems to strike some chaps).

Of course, because of aforementioned domestic blindness (previously ably assisted by now removed cataract) I don't leave David's cleaning of his toilet entirely unchecked. I don't want to be embarrassed by guests talking among themselves later about what a poor housekeeper I am when they see that the basin hasn't been properly cleaned or the cistern top wiped in David's toilet, because you know they would blame me ...

So on checking the other day, having removed my toilet seat and cleaned the whole commode and seat and brackets, I decided David's probably needed a thorough clean too, more so than mine, because as I almost the only user, the space behind the seat is unlikely to get messy - after all, no matter how hard I try, I cannot pee backwards and upwards.

The brackets are each covered with a stainless steel sleeve (SSS) that just lifts off. Well, that is the theory. But when the numerous people of a gender that shall remain unidentified use that toilet with gay abandon, blindly oblivious (is that a tautology?) to the splashing created by their full unfettered flow, some splashing of a yellow nature ends up using capillary attraction to seep upwards under the SSS. So said SSS becomes vacumm-sealed against being lifted off.

OK, I thinks to myself, time to break the vacuum. Off I go to get a tiny sharp vegetable parer (fear not, I already had plans to sterilise it). I give it a try, edging it under the SSS and lifting to let some air in, but no joy. In walks husband who declares a bigger knife that is all one piece is needed (i.e. one with an integrated handle). Do I think to myself  'Mmmm, this doesn't sound sensible'?  Mmm yes, I do. Mmm, do I act upon that thought? - No I don't.
So on hearing the immortal words from my husband's mouth 'Who's plucking this chicken?' I walk away. Only to hear a short time later 'Oh f*ck! I didn't mean to do that.'

So, taking that as a cue to come and see what he didn't mean to do but has clearly f*cked up, I make my way, sighing inwardly but loudly, to the area of the f*ck up. And there, wedged tightly under the whole bracket, is the point of the knife. Not the knife itself, you understand, just the point of it.

No, he's not being sick. He's using the knife that is about to lose the whole point of its existence. Why didn't I step in before that point? I ask myself. You can see he's ready to clean though, as the cleaner and cloth are on the windowsill.

'Don't worry' sez he, having quickly recovered his equilibrium and putting a brave front on it 'It was a cheap knife anyway.' That much was true. But that wasn't the f*ck up - the f*ck up was the broken off point jammed under the bracket, with, as the SSS was still in place, there no way to access the bolt to loosen it off and remove the knifepoint.

I don't think I said it, but I was thinking 'Well, mate, you can leave off plucking this chicken right now.' He must have heard me because he said 'Over to you.'

Back came the little vegetable parer, and with careful twists of the back edge of it under various points of the SSS, I managed to let some air under it and pry it loose. Then did the same with the other one. And armed with a philips screwdriver and a pair of long-nosed pliers, I loosened the bolt and removed the knifepoint. Both the knife and its severed point were walked, without protest, to the rubbish bin.

Then I demonstrated to David by dint of dribbling clean water over the brackets, just how mucky they had got and that they needed to be loosened so they could be thoroughly cleaned around and under. And that is when I failed to think 'Mmmm, can he be trusted to do this job without supervision? No, he cannot.' Instead I walked away and left him loosening one of the bracket bolts.

And a few minutes later he comes into me and says 'Well, here is what you don't do.' And in his hand he is holding the bracket and the bolt. And here is an important piece of information - both of our toilets are the ones that are fully enclosed - no pipes showing, no access to the area under the seat - lovely and easy to clean (well, mostly). But what that means of course is that the grommet that the bolt screws into that together hold the bracket on, is inaccessible and has fallen down into the black depths of the toilet enclosed space... AAARRRGGGHHH!!!

So David texts Luke who is away on holiday in the South Island and thinks he is safe from this stuff. But being the kind man he is, Luke phones David and, while I didn't hear the conversation, I did hear David laughing lots. Clearly Luke finds it funny too.

So the next day we head to Mitre10 and buy a pack of toggle bolts. The guy tells us how to use it and to be careful not to lose it down the hole. When we get home, I say to David 'Now, you need to be careful with this. Would you like me to help?'   'Help?' sez he 'No, I'm not doing it. It's over to you.'

So I do, and I managed to drop the little stubby philips screwdriver in the toilet twice, but that was easy enough to retrieve - you just need a mother's attitude of being inured to pee and poo (none of which was there, but we do tend to let our imaginations run riot about the remainder of them, even though several times about one and a half gallons of water has flushed anything away).

It's all sorted and the toilet seat is back on.

The lesson for me is that David can pluck the chicken in future, but my close supervision will be required, especially if it involves knives or bolts with impossible-to-get-at nuts...

And this top (with maps of NZ and kiwis and korus and tikis) is what I was making while David was plucking chickens.  I had to send the photo to Jane who had drafted the pattern for me - now SHE is clever!

And David needed a drink when it was all sorted. At least one thing has been successfully achieved - he had declared earlier that the Baileys needed to be emptied before we leave for the UK: mission accomplished, and all by himself!
Footnote: while we were at Mitre10 David said that he was surprised that I was so forgiving about the whole thing. I told him no forgiveness was needed, my revenge would come with the publishing of this post ... (He is right, I am a bitch ...)

Saturday 20 April 2019

Married to an older man ...

So David is officially old, given he had his 70th birthday on Wednesday 17th, and is now into his eighth decade. Who would have thought way back in 1973 when we first got together that we'd still be married all these years later?

So here is the birthday card I gave him.

And here's wot I writ inside it.

And even though it was his birthday, he got up and made the cup of tea. In part that was because we were leaving at 6am to get a head start on the rush hour traffic into town for an eye check up. But even so, it is one of the reasons I keep him on ...

Almost every year for about the last 20, David has said to me before his birthday that he doesn't want a present. Most years I ignore that and buy him something. Some years I have taken him at his word. BAD mistake, because then what happens is that a couple of months later he remarks that as I didn't get him anything for his birthday, he'd now like this or that technology gizmo, and because he is persuasive (read 'nags and nags and nags and nags') I end up getting him said gizmo.

This year I am not falling for that old chestnut. So this year I gave him a box to open. I said that the contents were not his present, unless he informed me in the next few months that I hadn't got him a present, in which case the contents of the box will be deemed to be his present and he can stop thinking he's getting anything else. If he doesn't decide there's something he really would like for his birthday, then the box contents are not his present.

He seemed to understand the concept, but we shall see.

Anyway, whether they are his presents or not, they did make him laugh.
I read about this game on a blog written by a man whose name I cannot remember but his boat is called Independence. He talked about pub games and this was one of them. I had never heard of it, but I found it and ordered it immediately. I think it is going to be fun ...

And here is the legend for scoring throws. I foresee much hilarity on the boat. Probably as much as when he and I played Battleships and he put his ships on the grid in the lid and wondered why the pegs (that marked my hits on his ships) fell out ...

This apparently also an old pub game. It'll also be a winner with the grandsons.

But this is my favourite!! Obviously an outside game, so to be played on the towpath. David is keen that I have first go. I don't mind getting drenched with cold water (in fact it is a positive boon in the hot weather), so I'll be keen. I anticipate much yelling and shrieking when David or the grandsons get doused.

We had our friend Lynne staying with us and I had told David that the three of us would have a quiet dinner up at the local Cambodian restaurant. He was very happy with that.

So at the appointed time, off we went all set to walk up; but John from next door was heading that way so dropped us off nearby. Along the main street we walked with David making a bee-line for the restaurant. In we go, and there is a table set up for 16 people, and David commented, as we sat at a table for three, that it is a good thing we arrived early, before that crowd gets in.

And then the crowd starts to arrive, and it's all people he knows. In fact it's all good friends of ours. In fact they are all there for his birthday.

He was delighted. But what did he say to me? "This is a lovely surprise, Marilyn. But you are a bitch." I think he meant that I was a bitch for being able to keep it secret. But as most people who know David can tell you, he is oblivious to most clues ...

Down the RHS of the table were Ted, Derek, Gary (obscured), Lynne and Joy B. Down the LHS are Peter, David, and Joy K (both obscured) and me standing, Autry and at the end, Grahame.

At the far end you can see Simon, but Jane and Warren are out of view behind Gary. I am standing talking to Joy K and David is tidying his place setting ...

He does look happy. but I think he's making sure I am not going to do a judo choke hold on him as I have done in the past ...

All in all, a good birthday. I did have to go down to the bottlestore to buy a chardonnay - we took a bottle of bubbles, but it would have looked suspicious carrying two bottles from home, given there were only two of the three originals who actually imbibe ... It was a struggle, but I did manage to complete the chardonnay consumption before we left. Well, it was yummy, which helped me worry it down.

Saturday 13 April 2019

Food things interspersed with garden bits

I have been occupied over the last couple of weeks with tomatoes and plums and feijoas, and in one instance apples, pears and rhubarb. And the corner shelf of the laundry pantry (we have a pantry in the kitchen as well as one in the laundry ...) is full. But feijoa season is well and truly on us and Rachel has brought me four lots so far.

So today I will make some chutney as well as some more feijoa jelly - you can never have too much feijoa jelly (as long as there is cheese, there is a requirement for feijoa jelly, in my view), and I am going to have to give Rachel at least one more jar, because less than 5 hours after giving her a jar (only a small one, Marilyn, she said), she told me she had had some with cheese and then some slathered on a large cracker with peanut butter - she was married to an American, so the jelly and peanut butter is explained, I suppose. But her one jar isn't going to last long, so best I get cooking! ** Change of plan - bugger the chutney - it's more jelly all the way!

On Friday we caught the bus down to Bruce and Gary's place to help celebrate Bruce's 66th birthday with drinks and nibbles from 4pm. I decided to make curry puffs as my contribution - not authentic as they were really just little closed mince pies made with flaky pastry - shop bought of course as puff pastry requires far too much time and patience. They tasted good, but the mix did ooze out a bit. I contemplated not taking them as they weren't perfectly formed, but overcame that thought. I also took a couple of tiny jars of the fruit chutney and the tomato and chilli chutney to serve them with. And they all got eaten, so their appearance (better off the oven tray and in a dish) didn't appear to matter.

Yesterday we had Rob here to do gardening and he performed his usual magic, and because the drought is well and truly over and the weather has been warm as well as wet, everything has taken off in a big way. Four and a half years ago when we first arrived here in Rata Street, we could not see part of our back fence from the back door, and Rob and Luke between them sorted that out, with the removal of a number of trees that had been planted too close together, the removal of 6 woolsacks of wandering willie/tradescanthia and the digging out of several thousand (!) arum and elephant ear lilies. Since then Rob has replanted the area, Luke has installed a grape vine trellis, a concrete tiled pad and a path to the washing line. And everything has flourished (the feijoas haven't fruited but I will forgive them for the moment). And, as is the way in Waikanae, everything that has dropped seeds has little babies growing. The list includes but is not limited to:
  • the strawberry tree - the main one is about 20 feet tall now and severely trimmed back by Rob and Luke as it was overhanging the house. It took a year off from flowering while it recovered but is back in business feeding the tui on its berries, and they are doing their job of pooping the digested berries down on  to the washing line area ...
  • the tree fuschia - Rob pruned the main one to death by accident, but that didn't stop its previous production and yesterday he removed a seedling 3 foot tall from the vegetable box, another one that was 5 foot tall from by the back fence (and overshadowing the plumbago) and 5 or 6 baby ones that were hiding in plain sight. One of them has been moved over to a convenient gap by the camellias.
  • foxgloves - baby plants are all over the place - yay!!
  • lilies - gggrrr!!!
Rob's partner Brian came and joined us for dinner and I cooked a spatchcocked chicken that had been marinated in lemon and herbs (by the local butcher), we had scalloped potatoes, coleslaw with vinaigrette, and beetroot and carrot salad.

David and I love beetroot and carrot salad, which we have only just been introduced to. When we were in Tauranga a few weeks ago, Pauline made it and it was so simple and yummy. When I came to make it at home a couple of weeks ago, having found a forgotten crop of beetroot in the vegetable box, I couldn't remember what dressing she used so I looked up recipes online, but they all had multiple ingredients. And then I remembered that Pauline just uses white balsamic vinegar. I don't have any white balsamic, so have used the dark stuff and it tastes just as great.

If you are interested, here is what the salad has:
  • about equal quantities of grated raw (peeled) beetroot and grated raw carrot
  • a handful of sultanas or raisins
  • some crumbled or cubed feta
  • some pan-toasted slivered almonds or walnuts (most recipes call for the latter, but I prefer almonds)
  • A Jamie Oliver style drizzle of balsamic, i.e. a drenching ... Add more if it seems too dry.
I grated the beetroot and carrot, added the sultanas and feta, poured on the balsamic and left the almonds to be added just before serving so they don't sog.

I have seen recipes with mint as well, and I will give that a go next time, as mint has a lovely freshness and zing.

ALL of the beetroot and carrot salad went last night - Rob boldly had seconds (David was out of the room). So I can see this is going to be added to the menu for the Mid Summer Kiwi Christmas on the cut - somewhere on the Oxford I think.

Is that OK by you, Julia? I will still do the kumara and orange salad, fear not!

Thursday 11 April 2019

The David Drama - Series 1, Episode 2

So on Wednesday we went back to the public hospital to see about getting David's left eye sorted.

Given the rush hour nature of our journey and the multiple roadworks on the way and the inevitable slowing of traffic when two lanes merge into one at various places and the townships on the way, we left at 7.10am for a 63km trip for a loose appointment (turn up mid morning the doc said that we had determined meant 9.30am). And we wanted to have breakfast before his appointment. (Yummy, at Columbus Coffee downstairs in the same building as the Countdown supermarket - I went there on 2nd April while David was having his right eye cataract removed.)

It was 9am by the time we parked in the hospital carpark, so 1 hour 50 minutes for 63 kms - we both expressed our pleasure at not having to do that trip twice a day as worker bees. There are definite perks to being retired and/or being able to work from home.

I'd have to say that the service at the Eye Clinic in Wellington Hospital is stellar.

Ginny, the nurse, came and got us within 10 minutes or so of arriving. She checked what David could see of the eye chart in each eye, and through a pin hole lens as well. The right eye had distinctly improved, and the left eye was still useless - not surprising as its pupil is dilated with drops and has been since the drama began.

The pressure in his left eye was about 14, which was very acceptable. In his right eye it was up to 32, I think. Apparently that is expected because of the drops that are still being used.

A bit of a wait for Keith who had people stacked up outside his room, but it was bearable - I was reading/sudoko-ing and David was watching downloaded Netflix stuff** on the iPad. Not sure what else he saw but it had lots of shouting and loud music effects - I could hear some of it outside his earphones ...

Keith was happy with the eye pressures, but concerned about the blood vessels on the left iris that shouldn't be there, but have developed since 2 April. He said it would be unwise to remove the cataract at this point, because it could cause other more serious problems. I looked up (as you do) what I think he said and found, after google corrected my spelling, ischemia. It looks nasty. If that's what it is we choose 'no thanks'.

So the upshot is:
  • no cataract removal until after we come back from the UK 
  • additional drops for the left eye with enough prescribed for 3 months
  • an additional set of drops for the right eye to assist with bringing down the pressure
  • a check up with Zak next Wednesday
  • a check up with Keith the following Wednesday, the day before we leave for the UK
  • a letter and a recommendation of who to see in the UK if problems occur.
So now the eye drop regime takes twice as long but is only occurring 3 times a day rather than four.

Both eyes are feeliing pretty good. And after the initial disappointment at not having it all sorted, David is fine. We are both very confident in Keith.

** He watched one episode of Afterlife - with Ricky Gervais. I binge-watched it a couple of weeks ago and really enjoyed it. So if you are subscribed to Netflix, check it out.

Sunday 7 April 2019

Preserving fruit and the husband

It's that time of year when I get all keen to fill the pantry shelves with bottles and jars of homemade stuff.

L-R: tomato and chilli relish, spiced plum chutney, tomato chutney, and at the back, tomato sauce. Some of each will be coming to the UK with us - one of the benefits of travelling business class is that I have sufficient luggage allowance to do this. The big question is whether David has enough socks for me to put jars in ...       
 On Friday I made about 4 litres of tomato soup, using up the remaining tomatoes from the 2 x 4kg boxes I'd bought before the drama of David's eye. I was going to take the soup up to Turangi where we were meant to be going for a Zero Degrees weekend (us retired people can have weekends any days we want, and this one was going to be Sunday, Monday and Tuesday). However, after a couple of pressure tests on David's left eye at a local optometrist on Friday and Saturday, and a conversation with the ophthalmologist, we realised being away from Wellington when other people are working and may require David to front up to the hospital, heading away for a weekday weekend was not going to work! So into the freezer went the soup.

The feijoa jelly that I started on Friday night and finished on Saturday - other times I have made it, it has been pink. I think that this time I didn't leave the fruit to boil as long - I was tired and needed to get it cooked ready to go into the muslin bag before going to bed. It needed to do its dripping into the bowl overnight, so I could put that in the fridge until we returned from Turangi. See above for why it got finished on Saturday ... Even though it's not pink, it tastes yummy.
Today I am using up some cooking apples, some pears and some rhubarb; and I have a pot of fruit chutney on the go. I am loosely following a recipe in the Edmonds Cookbook - I say loosely because it doesn't mention pears or rhubarb and I have swapped in prunes for the raisins - well, I had prunes but no raisins. However I have been pretty faithful to the seasonings and spices, so we shall see. It'll be fine with cheese, because there is almost no fruit that doesn't go well with cheese, eh?

It has also been the time for looking after David and preserving him in the best shape possible.
In to bed at Southern Cross Hospital. He was looking a lot better there than when we arrived as Janet had given him some anti-nausea medication. At that stage none of us were aware that what he was suffering from was acute malignant glaucoma and that nausea is a symptom of that. The only reason no-one knew was because we hadn't told them yet ...

He had an ECG before his surgery and, given he is fluffy, he had patches shaved ...
He was cold - one of the effects of the acute malignant glaucoma that hadn't yet been discussed or diagnosed. So Janet covered him in this blow-up blanket that is filled with hot air through the strategically placed tube ...
About to be wheeled away wearing the most fetching of caps ...
I didn't take any photos when we went over to the public hospital to deal with the left eye's acute malignant glaucoma - somehow, photography was not on my list of "must do" tasks.

You'll be pleased to know David is feeling substantially better and his right eye, now the cataract has been removed, is performing very well. He noticed almost immediately (well, when we got home from the hospital on Wednesday) that colours look truer, and he has since discovered that his focal length has extended - at first he was concerned that he had double vision, as he couldn't read properly when holding his phone close. I suggested he hold it further away, and YAY!!

According to the ophthalmologist, we are expecting he will have his left cataract removed on Wednesday or Thursday this week as an acute patient - fingers and toes are crossed.

Tuesday 2 April 2019

David's drama

Well, after a time of wonder, the day for David's cataract operation arrived - 3 delays in the public system had us decide to go private, working on the theory that we had put aside some money for the purpose of unexpected and necessary surgery that may be not considered urgent in the public system. (We believe that it is better to save the money ourselves rather than pay for health insurance, so that we have some cash available when required, and if we don't need operations, then we are quids in ...)

So yesterday was the day, and we set off from home at 5.15am so we would arrive in plenty of time at the Southern Cross Hospital in Wellington. On the way, strangely for David, he said it was the first time he'd ever felt car sick, so even though it was a bit chilly, we had the windows open. When we arrived, 45 minutes early, he spent the time walking up and down the street, to conquer the nausea. We put it down to nervousness - not surprising, as the eye to be operated on (his right - remember this - it's important) is his only good eye. His left eye only has 20% sight and is a bit useless. Nevertheless, the left eye was sore - as it had been a couple of other times over the last few weeks.

Because David was forcepped around the eye when being born, his eye muscles were damaged and his eyes wobble - it is most noticeable when he is angry, and kids he taught told me once that they never knew who he was growling at ... Anyway, back to the wobbling eyes: to make sure the right eye stayed still, David had to have a general anaesthetic for the cataract operation. Usually the operation takes about 15 minutes all up, but David was prepped early and then slept for about 3/4 of an hour afterwards. I wasn't surprised as he'd only had about 3 hours sleep the night before.

But when he came to, he told Keith, the ophthalmologist, that his left eye was sore. So Keith checked the eye wearing what looks like a space-age piece of headgear - lights, microscope, etc. Then he checked the pressure in David's eye, and realised it was very high. "OK"he said, "I am going to send you over to the public hospital immediately to get treatment started - this is very serious. You have acute malignant glaucoma in this left eye, and it needs to be attended to straightaway." AAARRRGGGHHH!!!

David was still feeling very dozy and quite unwell, so I helped him dress, went and got the car, and Janet, the lovely nurse, pushed him in a wheelchair to the front door. She then lent us the wheelchair so he wouldn't have to walk to the Eye Clinic from the public hospital carpark.

Once there, we only waited a few minutes before Ginny the ophthalmology nurse came to get David, and measured the pressure (69). Apparently, the pressure should be between 12 and 22... AAARRRGGGHHH!!! She gave David some tablets that are meant to help reduce the pressure, and then got Zak, one of the ophthalmologists, to see David.

There was a wait of a few minutes, followed by the first action to attempt to reduce the pressure:  using a laser to cut a slit in the cornea. Zak did have to wait though while David vomited into the wastepaper basket ... And the laser treatment didn't work and I think he vomited up the pills ...

So Zak moved straight on the the second action - more laser treatment: approximately 100 - 200 laser strikes around the iris to open up little holes and get the iris to move away from the cornea. Nope, didn't work.

There was then a hiatus while, after consulting Keith who had arrived for his public practice, Zak administered eye drops every few minutes (between other patients) to try and reduce the pressure. By this stage, David was lying down in one of the consulting rooms and drifting in and out of sleep, and quite distressed and disoriented. (I took the opportunity to walk the wheelchair back to the Southern Cross Hospital - do you know how weird it looks to be wheeling an empty chair??) Shortly after I got back they re-checked the pressure and still no change.

So a bit more of a wait, then another pressure test by Keith and the decision on a procedure (to be done urgently) wherein Keith inserted a needle into the back of David's eye and extracted some fluid, then inserted a needle into the front of his eye and pumped in some fluid to help the iris move away from the cornea. David did have the benefit of some local anaesthetic, but it all looked pretty scary from where I was watching...

Success - the pressure reduced to the mid-40s. And the change in David was quite remarkable - he brightened, could almost answer questions intelligibly, could walk unaided, no longer felt sick, was ready for food (that is a sure sign in a man that they are much better). So then it was a wait and see - measurements twice in an hour. It went down to the high 30s.

Keith's view was that David should stay in hospital overnight in case it climbed again, in which case,  surgical intervention would be required - by this stage it was after 4.30pm, and Zak had to come back after more operations in theatre to do a further measurement and write up the notes for David to be admitted. Ruth, another ophthalmology nurse, found a bed on a ward for him, and after a final check by Zak and Keith (who cancelled the Nil by Mouth ruling given the pressure was reducing, albeit slowly), Ruth and I took David in a wheelchair up to the ward - I pushed. Well, I had to get my 10,000 steps and effort in somehow!

By the time we got him to the ward and settled, it was after 6pm. All of the Eye Clinic staff had worked extended hours to get him sorted - what a magnificent team they are.

So he had dinner on the ward (the poached fish looked awful to me, but I would have eaten the mashed potato, carrots and cabbage) but David told me later he had eaten it all. Well, he hadn't had a meal for over 24 hours, so no doubt it tasted good, regardless!

I went to stay overnight with Errol and Adrian in Wilton which is close to the city, to save me the drive out to Waikanae. Chardonnay was waiting for me, as well as dinner. Such good and kind friends they are.

David rang while I was drinking my first chardonnay to let me know that the ophthalmology registrar had been and the pressure was down to 30. YAY!!!

My bed was warm and comfy, I had my own en-suite bathroom and Errol and Adrian found for me a Business Class toothbrush and toothpaste from one of their trips - of course, as I was only expecting to be away from home until about midday, neither of us had taken anything for an overnight stay ...

David texted early this morning to say he'd had a good night's sleep and that both eyes felt good. I was up by 6.30 and in the shower, then a cup of tea with Adrian who was already working, then off to the hospital in a vain attempt to be there before Keith and Zak came to check on him in their early morning rounds. Missed by about 5 minutes, I think.

But the upshot was the pressure was back down to 10 - double YAY!!! and David was allowed to come home.

Keith has decided that rather than just keeping a watching brief on the left eye, David needs a cataract operation on it without delay - the cataract is partially responsible for the growth in pressure inside the eye as it takes up space. And the left eye is smaller than the right because of the damage at birth. So the plan is that the left eye will be operated on as a matter of urgency, and it is intended that it will be done before we go overseas. Triple YAY if they pull that off!!!

So watch this space!

PS Had to go through and correct the spelling of ophthalmology - too many dipthongs in that word!