Eyes Age

Of course, it would be nice if I could say this was about one of Luca’s (my 11-year-old) all-time favorite animated feature films. But unfortunately, it is about my getting old, and how parts of my body have signalled that in the most unsubtle of ways. Before 1998, I was one of those cursed with acute myopia, my grade of over 500 meant I would literally smell the newsprint when reading the dailies, and whether hard lenses or soft, I had a set of ultra-sensitive eyes, which made extended wear a non-concept. A Lasik procedure with Dr. Jack Arroyo at the American Eye Center at the Shangri-La Mall, and an enhancement in 2007, were virtual godsends — driving, tennis, badminton and leading a life without lenses or glasses (except for extended reading) were things to savor and enjoy. In late 2010, a driving license renewal and the vision test where I could barely make out the second and third lines had me frantically calling Dr. Arroyo. It turned out I had cataracts in both eyes, and Dr. Arroyo recommended talking to the cataract team at the new Greenbelt 5 (fourth floor) clinic.

Assigned to Dr. Richard Kho (who had also treated my brother), he explained how both my eyes now had cataracts, more prominent on my right, and how it made the lens that exists between the cornea and the retina thicker and opaque, seen as a cloudy or milky substance, and hence, blurring my vision. He went on to discuss the solution; a cataract extraction procedure and how they would implant an acrylic Alcon lens to replace the natural one I was born with. In the old days, when cataracts were taken out, they resulted in the treated person to wear super thick glasses that looked like the bottom of soft drink bottles. Thanks to technology and research, the actual lens is replaced via a 1.2-mm incision; and the acrylic (or plastic) lens inserted is inert, not rejected like a foreign body, and our eyes should be as good as new! Of course there were downsides, choices and risks. One choice was whether to have the inserted lens be monofocal or multifocal. If aiming for distance and 20/20, monofocal would mean reading glasses, while the multifocal meant a probable loss of intermediate vision and living with glare, but no glasses as we “neuro-adapt” and our eyes shift focus depending on the need at hand. The worst case scenario would involve blindness, but Dr. Kho assured me that the risk of that is negligible — but for safety’s sake, they would “attack” one eye at a time.

On the day of the procedure, I had to report to the clinic a good hour before, and had my eye dilated via drops. Local anesthesia would also be applied via eye drops so one is awake during the procedure, keeping one’s eye open throughout. The operation lasted no more than 20 minutes, and the most difficult part was keeping one’s eye focused on the light as per directions. With all the drops being placed, the light becomes really bright and all I really wanted to do was shut my eye against the glare. Unlike Lasik, there is no smell of tissue burning; and while I can’t vouch as to whether it’s less gory for those watching the monitor outside the operating theater, I can say that by the very same evening, while there were still starbursts surrounding any lit object, I could discern the success of what had transpired. Focus on objects from a distance was especially sharp, and it felt great to have that kind of vision capability back again! One week of rest was recommended; but two days after the procedure, and I tested my eyes out on the tennis court. Sorry Doc! Couldn’t resist and was so bored with all the prescribed “rest.” Doctors Richard Kho, Benjamin Cabrera, Cesar Espiritu and Nilo Florcruz make up the Cataract team at American Eye.

Novels that reach far and wide.

From past to present

The three novels today come from American writers who could be tomorrow’s champions of American literature. Kathleen Kent mines the genre of historical fiction, while Adam Langer’s brilliant satire takes potshots at the world of publishing. Mark Kurlansky has more than established himself as a food writer, and now gives us his first book of fiction.

The Wolves of Andover by Kathleen Kent (available at National Bookstore): A prequel to The Heretic’s Apprentice, this novel revolves around the life of Martha Allen before she fell victim to the Salem Witch trials of colonial America. At its heart, the novel is also a love story as we chart her relationship with Thomas, a mysterious farmhand on the plot of land owned by Martha’s cousin-in-law. It seems Thomas had committed regicide back in England and Charles II has now hired killers to avenge his father’s untimely death. The fate of these killers, the life during these colonial times, and how subterfuge, plotting and dissembling form the part of everyday life make this novel a riveting read. The author’s personal stake in the story is that she is a direct descendant of Martha.

The Thieves of Manhattan by Adam Langer (available at Fully Booked): Ian is a failed writer working at a coffee shop in Manhattan. He abhors with a passion the soul-less works of writers like Blade Markham that hit bestseller status. Approached by an ex-publishing house executive, he is goaded to pass off the executive’s manuscript as his memoirs. With concise and cutting humor, Langer exposes the world of publishing, the vanity of writers, the egos of agents and how ethics flies out the window in this cutthroat world. One remembers James Frey and his A Million Little Pieces when reading this funny novel — how the category of memoirs and non-fiction is often abused in the name of marketing and sales. The book is beautifully written, both as a satire and as a morality tale.

Edible by Mark Kurlansky (available at National Bookstore): Kurlansky is a noted and awarded food writer, and this is his first foray into fiction. Rather than go for a linear storyline, he gives us 16 interconnected stories that talk about food, culture, history and how they permeate everyday life and the physical activity of eating. For example, there’s a Latino who shoplifts osetra caviar, and an eccentric family where the mother goes vegan but can’t pronounce the word and her husband converses exclusively in poetry. Kurlansky has a great time “humanizing” food as a key to understanding his characters better, and giving them depth and texture. He then interconnects the stories in ingenious ways, having them crop up in subsequent chapters. Edible is a brisk, satisfying read.