Life through a lens

13th February 2022

With my third dose now history, and my new Super Green Pass having been downloaded and thereby giving me access to a world of untold pleasures (theoretically), it came time to turn our attention to the other two tasks for this month: the occulist and the driving licence renewal. Admittedly we are operating within certain parameters where these are concerned, but to say that there is in the circumstances good news and good news and a bit more good news, will hopefully not diminish the narrative tension.

Tuesday morning we set off for my 9 am appointment with the oculista (so much easier to say – and write - than ophthalmologist), who was surprisingly busy, with some people having to wait on the stairs due to Covid regulations. After a short wait I was seen by a nice lady who tested my vision and did all those examinations with those machines that puff air and flash lights before putting drops in my eyes that didn’t so much sting as burn and sending me back to reception to wait to be called by the Dr Scorolli himself.

He did a few more tests before sitting me (and my trusty translator to make sure I understood correctly) down at the desk to say that the time had come to operate on the right eye, which was significantly worse than the left. That one could wait till later in the year. He offered us two possible places for the operation: Macerata or Cattolica. The advantages of Cattolica were that Dr S could do the operation in March and, he said, as it was newer the seats in the waiting area were better. The disadvantage was that it’s ninety minutes up the autostrada whereas Macerata is less then thirty minutes away, though the date was in May.

We opted for Macerata, working on the basis that it was more convenient, and the important thing was not the comfy armchairs but that the operating equipment was to the same standard, as was the man doing it, being Dr S. Nor were we put off by the date for the intervention, not being superstitious, and besides, in Italy 13 is regarded as a lucky number, whether or not it falls on a Friday.

We also during the discussion broached the subject of the medical examination for the driving licence, which, if you recall, expires on 22nd February. As my vision currently stands with my current glasses, I am on the borderline of being able to read line 8 of the chart, the smallest the test requires. That ability, of course, depends on whether the letters manage to stay still for long enough and if they only divide into two whilst I am looking at them not three. Dr S came up with a devilish solution – well, maybe not that devilish but a solution of sorts. Rather than invest in a new pair of glasses to bring up my vision so I stood a chance of reading the final line of the test, why not try contact lenses, which would be considerably cheaper and as they are disposable would not become obsolete after the operation.

Good idea, we thought, and so we decided to visit our friend at Giorgiottica in Corridonia the next morning. Before that, however, we thought it best on Tuesday evening to visit Scuola Europa in Rapagnano, the driving school where we went when we changed our licences. We went in ready to explain the situation and start the ball rolling for the medical examination, but when the young man behind the counter (the two ladies sitting at their desks obviously had far more pressing things to do, which seemed as best as I could see to involve nail files) looked at my licence he said that I had until the end of June to renew it, an extension due to Covid (see, every cloud as they say). This period of grace, apparently, applies for any licence due for renewal up to the end of March, which means I just make it. Stephen, who is due in April, doesn’t.

This left us in a little bit of a quandary, whether still to pursue the lenses or not. After a brief discussion we decided we would, because: (1) the optician is very nice and would advise us sensibly; (2) if the lenses are effective then I can still do the medical examination, probably at the same time as Stephen; (3) examination aside, I will be able to do the shopping without having to get down on my haunches to stare at the labels on the shelves.

And this is where we got the third bit of good news, for, said our friendly optician when we went Wednesday morning, the first set of monthly contact lenses would be free as a trial and if I wanted to continue the following two months would come in at around €60, considerably cheaper than the hundreds lenses would cost - and worth it to avoid embarrassment in the tinned meat aisle. We, of course, agreed and are now awaiting the call to go and collect my first set.

All this, though, was momentarily thrown up in the air as Wednesday evening Dr Scorolli’s receptionist called to ask if I were available for the operation a week on Friday, the 18th, as a spot had opened up. Well, yes, I suppose I could be, I said, all the while trying to decide if this was a good thing or not, and wondering about what would happen to all the plans we’d been putting in place, when the decision was more or less taken out of my hands. Did I have all the necessary documentation (blood analysis, cardiogram, note from my doctor, etc), the lady asked. Well, no, and we both agreed that it would be too much of a rush to get them in time, and so we were back to May to my secret relief – though it was exciting while it lasted.

As for the rest of the week, there were elegant variations to my lessons as once again Diego was unable to keep our date – this time because whilst he was over his bout of positivity, his family had succumbed. Don’t think I was twiddling my thumbs, as on Tuesday, whilst we were having out post-luncheon caffè and sit down I received a message from one Matteo enquiring about lessons. An exchange of texts followed, resulting in him in coming on Wednesday morning for his first lesson, and then again on Friday. A young man in his final year at university, he is keen to improve his English and thereby his employment prospects but also because he needs to pass a proficiency test in the language to graduate. That may take a bit of work, but what doesn’t require any, is his manners, which are charming.

If that wasn’t enough, on Saturday morning my student Leonardo said he had a friend who was interested in lessons and could he pass on my number. Of course, I said of course, and a little later I received a message from Andrea. We arranged for a Skype call in the afternoon and it was fixed up that he would have a weekly lesson. His English seemed, from an initial conversation, quite good if, as is increasingly the case, a little Americanised – something else we have to thank the power of streaming for.

And that is really about it, except that mid-week we were treated to the sight of our local owl, maybe due to Mario and Luigi churning up the field and disturbing some of the wildlife, being quite active. On Wednesday evening, when I did my usual taxi service, taking a student back to her car at the top of the road, I caught in the headlights the owl swooping up the road before obligingly alighting on a bare branch and posing imposingly. I caught it again on my return though this time it was weaving back and forth as it headed down.

I mentioned it to Stephen when I got in, and he had also seen it a little earlier when he had returned home. It may seem sometimes that we dwell on the glitches of living in the countryside (hopefully for what might approach comic affect), but there are pleasures to celebrate as well, especially connected with nature - seeing an owl in ghostly flight is one of the finer ones.