So I have good news and I have bad news. Which would you like first?
So the good news is I went to see the vision wizard himself on Tuesday and I am cleared for lift off! My left eye (the one he operated on) is looking really good and he’s pleased with my brilliance. I do have to stay on pesky eye drops for quite a while yet, but still that is a small price to pay for X-ray vision and flight clearance.
The not so good news is the cataract in my right eye is a teeny weeny bit bigger than it was, so I’ve got to go and see him again in six month’s time. I can still see out of my right eye but the vision maestro told mum it would be foggy and like looking through a net curtain — sort of the way the neighbours do every time mum tries to reverse her car off the drive…
Mum was quite pragmatic about the whole thing (which quite frankly was a surprise and may be attributable to the amount of drugs she’s popping for her supposedly broken back) and was pleased that I can see really well out of my left eye. Parrots and eye patches were mentioned but I put that down to her opiate abuse and not anything to be taken seriously. Sort of like when she tells me to walk…
Talking of which, once she’d be given flight clearance for Hoverine’s take off (my reading of what was said rather than mother’s), the mother ship then connected with Herman the German needle man to talk about my “back to work” plan. For those of you who don’t remember my annus horriblus (and quite frankly, shame on you if you don’t), then you might recall that the eye issue came hot on the broken heels of me breaking my leg in January the same year. This reminder is pertinent as a) it sort of explains my mother’s drama queen mentality when it comes to vets, me and large bills and b) should remind you all of what a truly horrendous time I’ve had and may motivate you to send carrots. You know, in sympathy…
So anyway it does mean I can’t be lunged. Like ever. Which means someone has got to just get on me following many ,many months off.
And I am feeling VERY well.
Apparently I’m only allowed to walk for the next two weeks. Herman suggested some nice long hacks. In walk. And then couldn’t understand why mother didn’t stop laughing for about half an hour. She did suggest he came and tried it, but there appeared to be a freak connectivity issue between their two mobiles at that time so Herman couldn’t comment.
Herman is a wimp.
Cool New Shoes Man has been volunteered, as has dad, to be the test pilot. Personally I think they’re all missing my track record. The first ride will be fine, as will possibly the second. It’s the third you want to worry about.
Talking of worrying, mother also wants to bear in mind that I have a butt like an elephant and a memory to match. She has published images of me all over my Facebook pages of me drugged off my tree and looking like I’m coming off a four-day bender. There’s drool involved people. Drool. I feel this is a gross infringement on my basic equine rights and am currently looking for a lawyer willing to sue her on my behalf. Admittedly she has zero cash but that’s hardly my fault and I’m sure I could take my pay out in other ways — carrots and loose moralled mares being a good example.
So anyway, the get fit again campaign starts here. I have very, very exciting news coming up very soon which will require me to be on the top of my game.
I’m therefore off to limber up, plan my zero to 60 take off plan and plot what to spook at now I can actually see things.