On Monday Tartarus, Nero and myself headed north to glorious Perthshire where the soil is the colour of a chestnut and gleams like a race horse's flank in the low winter sun.
We were staying in the Meikelour Estate in a wee cottage (gorgeous - single bedroom, dogs welcome, log fire kind of thing) and the world-famous Meikelour Hedge is but a scant mile's walk to the edge of the estate at the A90.
On Tuesday night, we popped to the other single bedroom cottage to visit our friends - The Mad Woman From Kilmarnock and her lovely hubby. And their two whippets.
As I stepped out into the rural darkness I became aware of a tiny glitter when I blinked. I thought nothing of it and after an hour it went away. A lovely evening was had.
I woke up on Wednesday morning with definite visual disturbance - a bar that lay across my peripheral vision of my left eye from about 10 to 12 (if my gaze was a clock face). It went away after about an hour.
But I was shitting myself. To tell Tartarus or not to tell Tartarus? I told him. Just in case anything else happened.
Thursday morning we drove home as planned and I made an appointment for Friday morning at the health centre.
Friday came and my sight felt fine, but I went all the same. The nurse shone a light into each eye. 'There is more of a halo effect on my left eye,' I admit to her.
She scoots off to ask the doctor on duty at our cottage hospital what to do next and returns with the answer - a pressure test is needed on my eyes. A puff test. I get that done every year at the opticians - no sweat. But cannot be done today on this fecking island. I need to go to the mainland.
I am left with instructions to phone Specsavers or Optical Express in Greenock and get a puff test today. Specsavers tell me to come over and they'll squeeze me in.
'Shall I come with you?' asks Tartarus. I have had the puff test before, I tell him that I will be fine.
The long and the short of it is, dear reader that I found myself at Inverclyde Hospital at 2pm on Friday with high pressure to both eyes. Drops immediately brought it down. But the doctor started talking about lazering holes in my iris to help with drainage.
Fine, I think to myself. That will be about June or July.
'Oh no, we'll do it later today' says my lovely Doctor, as if we were talking about going to Tescos for the shopping.
I text Tartarus. I ask him to come over on the next convenient ferry - I am not going to be able to drive home. It's a 10 minute taxi drive from Wemyss Bay to the hospital. He's there by 4pm.
Just in time for me to get my eyes lasered.
Reader - it was completely painless. And over in less than 10 minutes.
Another quick check at my pressures confirmed that they were down from 40 and 36 to 20 and 16. The upper range of normal and normal.
The doctor asked me if I had any questions and I shook my head dumbly. Less than 12 hours ago, my eyesight was fine. Reading glasses needed, but fine. Now I am looking down the barrel of glaucoma and eyedrops for life.
I am due back next week - possibly for a bit more work in the eye that is still high pressure and definitely to let the doctor inspect my optic nerves for damage. Permanent damage.
Specsavers were magnificent. The NHS even more magnificent. This Service of ours is a wonder of the modern world and we need to protect it and cherish it and those who work within it.
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