Ron Ferguson

God bless the eye surgeon who restored my sight and thank you NHS Orkney

At a party once upon a time, rock star Mick Jagger said to jazz singer and raconteur George Melly, who was staring at Jagger’s face, “No, George, these aren’t wrinkles on my face – these are laughter lines.” To which Melly replied: “Mick, nothing’s that funny.” I love that story. It is perfect.

All I want you to do for now is to keep that story at the back of your mind, while I talk about eyesight.

It’s very much on my mind, the more so because I’ve just had cataract operations.

I have worn spectacles for a long time. No, I didn’t wear specs in the pram, though I’m sure that if I had done so, I would have looked cute and adorable. No?

(Actually, the truth of the matter is more prosaic. When I was born in Dunfermline Maternity Hospital, the doctor pointed to me and told my mother that I was the ugliest baby he had ever seen. No kidding.)

I console myself nowadays with the thought that the doctor probably had an eyesight problem. I think It’s more likely that I was a beautiful child, with a small and perfectly formed heid. What do you mean, No?

Back to my eyesight. My sight had been deteriorating for a while. My optician had referred me for cataract surgery some 18 months before, but the waiting list was very slow to go down.

After protests, NHS Orkney decided to tackle the problem by bringing up eye specialists from elsewhere.

This good news meant that I was further up the list, and eventually I got the all-important letter asking me to report the Balfour Hospital in Kirkwall for a consultation with Dr Andrew Cassells-Brown, a highly regarded consultant eye surgeon who is normally based in St James Hospital, Leeds.

Dr Cassells-Brown confirmed that I had cataracts in both eyes. He explained to me that the most recent advances in technology made it possible to tackle both eyes on the same day. Was I up for it?

You bet.

Which is why I am now lying down waiting for the first operation to start. The nurses have been great, giving me the necessary sedative injection and antibiotic drugs.

Dr Cassells-Brown, who has been brilliant throughout the whole process, puts me at my ease. He tells me we are now ready to begin. “So open as wide as you can,” he says. He must be dismayed as he looks down to see me lying there with my mouth wide open. Yes, my mouth wide open. For eye surgery. Dr Cassells-Brown must think to himself, “What have we here? This guy must be under the impression that he is in here for dental work.”

I quickly close my mouth and open my eyes as wide as possible.

The real work begins. I am in the hands of a skilled and compassionate surgeon.

Dr Cassells-Brown talks me through the process.

“There’s something almost biblical about giving sight to the blind. I bless NHS Orkney for getting a grip on the waiting list problem and giving hope to people that they will see properly again. This is absolutely wonderful. I can see for miles

“Well, that’s that he says, reassuringly.

Soon it’s time for the second operation. Dr Cassels-Brown tells me that it’s all going well.

When Cristine, my wife, drives me home, I am a bit disorientated.

Next day, I am back in the city and Royal Burgh of Kirkwall. My sight isn’t perfect, understandably, but I haven’t been knocking people down in the street.

At least, I don’t think so.

I am reminded of the Glasgow woman who was overheard saying to her companion in Sauchiehall Street, “Since I got these new specs, Jessie, people keep banging into me.”

Well, I am now seeing superbly well. What were once big dark shapes turn out to be farm houses with windows.

Things are clearly delineated. I can miles. This is absolutely wonderful.

Not wearing glasses seems very strange after all these years. Old habits die hard: I keep pushing up specs that are no longer there.

It’s also liberating. When I go out in the rain with my dog, Mansie, I don’t feel like I need windscreen wipers on my glasses. I love this.

I bless Dr Andrew Cassells-Brown and his colleagues. There’s something almost biblical about giving sight to the blind.

I bless NHS Orkney for getting a grip on the waiting list problem and giving hope to people that they will see properly again.

What I do notice is how many wrinkles have appeared in the last two or three days. I insist that they are not wrinkles but laughter lines. Yes, I know, Mr Melly. Nothing is that funny. But it would take another operation to get the smile off the face of the ugliest baby in Cowdenbeath. old cataract dealt with,” see for

Sir Mick Jagger