Growing old is not for sissies! We've all heard it and we baby boomers laugh while shaking our heads in agreement. Yet, amidst the laughter lies the recognition, not so much of our own mortality, but of the trials we must bear before we shuffle off this mortal coil.

For me, it's the eyes. I can put up with the aching joints, the decreasing energy, and the reality that life, although good to me, has not met all my expectations. But, the eyes ...

The cataract had been bothering me for quite a while, especially the glare of light that refracted against it, causing my eyes to water. It's time, my ophthalmologist told me, and so we set a date.

This is what I want, I told him. This is what I need. I've been near-sighted all my life and I wish to remain so.

Are you sure? Most people like to drive without their glasses, then use glasses to read. He pressed me.

No.  No.  I remained adamant.  I want to be able to read lying down. I want to be able to see every pore on my granddaughter's nose as we snuggle. I want to be able to read the mint on a penny - all without glasses - as I always have.

My doctor dutifully wrote down my desires, to be passed on to his partner who would do the surgery. Now, remember to talk with our surgeon, he stressed.

Of course, I would remember. Everything I wished for was at stake.

The meeting went well. I was comfortable with the surgeon although I had been warned about his "bedside" manner. He seemed like a plumber, at ease and easy to talk to. He yawned and stretched. It had been a long morning of removing cataracts. We baby-boomers are lining up at the eye surgeon.

A minus three lens should put you right where you want he assured me after I outlined my reasons for wishing to remain near-sighted. The non-standard lens would be ordered and inserted the day of surgery. I left his office secure in the knowledge all was well.

The day of surgery the genial plumber was nowhere to be found. Someone who looked like him slammed a strip of tape across my forehead so violently my head actually bounced before it was strapped down. No words were spoken, even in response to mine.

It's okay, it's okay, I reassured myself. Hadn't I been told he's the best in Topeka? Hadn't my own ophthalmologist said he would choose this surgeon for his family?

Tomorrow - Part 2: The dangers of having a plumber remove your cataracts