BY JOELLEN COLLINS
As my daughter was driving me to Twin Falls this past Wednesday, January 6 (a day remembered in “infamy”), we listened non-stop both coming and going to reports of the terror at our nation’s Capitol. It was hard to think about anything else during my left-eye cataract procedure, but the sweet nurses at the surgery facility helped me relax, and I began to think about this medical process.
On the way home, with violence escalating in Washington, D.C., I thought of the current society in which we live, my gratitude for the things I admit with some fear may be lost, and then about the amazing procedure I had just experienced. I had been considering the gift modern medicine had given me already with my right eye, where I had attributed my foggy vision to unclean glasses. I don’t mind glasses; my grandchildren hardly recognize me without them and my short haircut, but now my vision is remarkably improved and I may only have to occasionally don spectacles. So the prospect of better sight is attainable and even covered by Medicare.
I am overwhelmed by the discoveries and practices of research and medicine. The kind of cataract surgery I had was first performed in 1972, too late for my mother to have enjoyed as she would have aged. She died of a heart condition in 1967 that was not available for treatment at the relatively young age of her death. Had it been, she would have been able to embrace her grandchildren.
Even with COVID-19 assaulting every corner of the world, one has to be awed by the speed with which scientists and medical experts have created vaccines that will protect many of us soon enough to slow and maybe even stop the rapid march of this epidemic.
Most of us do appreciate the doctors and nurses and other exhausted medical professionals grappling with the pandemic. I hope we don’t forget all the other times that their dedication and intelligence and care for others have helped so many of us live longer and healthier lives.
Hearing of the possibility of triage at the arrival of too many ambulances at currently overcrowded hospitals in Southern California, I am reminded of my visit to a hospital highly regarded in Africa. This facility is one of the prides of Tanzania, regularly visited by surgeons from the U.S. When I was there, I noticed the open-air hallways and decks crowded with patients awaiting care or suffering from treatments. At the time, I felt so fortunate to live in a place where I could rely on excellent medical care. I still count that as one of my blessings, but the specter of doctors having to make triage conditions for COVID-19 visits is daunting.
I have to remember that staffs of our medical facilities are working endlessly to facilitate all the benefits and advancements that medical science has created. Thanks to them all. I am reminded to also continue to do my part to decrease the spread of this pandemic.
