A friend commented to me this week that cataract surgery has become a regular rite of passage for people of a certain age, and I suppose that’s true.

My first and dominant eye goes under the laser knife tomorrow morning. Scheduling and preparations have been going on for longer than I really wanted. But such is life.

The preparations for cataract surgery have included two different sessions where measurements were taken, I believe to guide the computer-assisted laser that does the actual cutting of the eye. In addition, there was a required session with my primary care doctor to obtain a medical clearance, affirming that I’m well enough to survive the brief out-patient surgery. In my case, the computer returned the estimate of something less than one-half of one percent chance of suffering a heart attack or stroke. The doctor assured me that these odds never go to zero, so not to worry that the risk wasn’t zero.

Of course, just to be sure that you aren’t too casual about it, the packet of paperwork also included an optional Advance Health-Care Directive where I could specify how much I want to stay alive if by some fluke I keel over during the short operation. I decided to go with the odds and not worry about such things at this time.

Then, beginning three days before the surgery, three different eye drops, none inexpensive. Two start at the beginning of the three days, but on different schedules (one 1x per day, the other 2x per day). Then, after the surgery, the third drops are added. There’s a complex calendar for each eye, and they overlap (the calendars, not so much the eyes), so I know it’s going to get confusing.

Then there were the instructions to be sure to report any changes in health prior to the surgery. Of course, after returning from New Orleans a couple of weeks ago, I came down with the obligatory airplane cold. It’s worked its way through my system, from a running nose through an uncomfortable cough and back to near normalcy. I decided to wait until today before checking in as instructed with one of the nurses regarding health changes. Luckily, the cold has largely receded and I was told it should not pose any problems tomorrow.

I’m prepared to show up before sunrise at the surgical offices near downtown with photo i.d., insurance card, the form disclosing any medication I take regularly, and of course some form of payment for amounts not covered by insurance (and luckily our health insurance is quite good).

So wish me and my right eye the best of luck!