Barbara J. Hamby

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Driving at Dawn

Driving into Portland at sunrise, we were greeted with a great show of color surrounding a silhouette of Mt. Hood. I probably haven’t seen more than a few dozen sunrises in my lifetime, not nearly as many as sunsets. I’m not normally a morning person. I blame that on having been born at 6:20 a.m. That gorgeous view was a reward for rising at 5:00 a.m. to head into the ambulatory surgery clinic for my cataract surgery. The next sunrise I see should be brighter without the cloudy cover over my eye. Maybe both cataracts will be gone by then.

All during the surgery I was treated to a show of blues, pinks and reds in geometric shapes. The display began with a long white tunnel, tinted pink at the far end. Had I not had a slight sedative to “calm” me, I might have been alarmed at the similarity of that display to descriptions I’ve heard of near-death experiences. After about ten minutes, the surgery was complete and I asked the doctor and nurses if any of them were old enough to know what a kaleidoscope was. One nurse said she had given one to her grandson. They all seemed amused that I’d think they were too young to remember that. I haven’t seen a kaleidoscope for years, but they must still be around.

The nurses told me that not every patient sees the colors. Some experience it in one eye and not the other, and some, not at all. I thought the color show, along with the music the nurses played, was a welcome distraction.

Tomorrow we’ll be driving in somewhat later for a post-operative appointment. Then I will get the annoying eye patch removed and see what I can see.

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