Dan’s comments are bolded and italicized.

Before moving here, I had to reassure many friends that South Africa isn’t your typical African country. In fact, it is extremely Westernized with all goods and services available that are available in the US and UK.

Sadly, in this day and age, most countries comprise of the ‘haves’ and the ‘have-nots’, and S. Africa is no different. What has changed for us is where we fall along that continuum. In the US, we used to be solidly middle-class. In the last 12 years or so, however, our footing has slipped and our standard of living has dropped. Not only did our move here arrest the decline, but also it catapulted us into the ‘haves’ category. Here, we live the upper echelon lifestyle in a beautiful, safe area where every good and service you may crave is on hand.

In South Africa, as elsewhere, money talks; and nowhere is that more obvious than in the area of medicine. South Africa has a two-tier medical system. Its private sector is world-class, offering cutting-edge technology, globally-accredited facilities, and highly skilled specialists. However, the public sector, serving about 80% of the population, faces severe under-resourcing, long wait times, and infrastructure deficits. It’s what’s happening in the US and UK…but more extreme. Consequently, we invested in a good medical insurance because, as Dan is fond of saying, “You’re getting older and you’ve already had a heart attack!” Being as he’s correct on both counts, all I could do was shrug, bite my tongue, and smile.

So, imagine my delight when it was he, and not I, who needed medical attention! For a couple of weeks, Dan’s been complaining of an increased amount of floaties in his left eye. “You’re getting older,” I’d say whilst turning around to hide my smirk. But three days ago, that smirk was wiped off my face when Dan said that he was beginning to lose his vision, and we both realized that something had to be done.

Thankfully, with the S. African medical system, you don’t have to get an appointment with your GP in order to get a referral to see a specialist; you can make an appointment yourself. Hence, at 11 a.m. three days ago, Dan spoke with the receptionist at an ophthalmologist office. Unlike yours-truly, after hearing his symptoms the receptionist put me to shame by saying that it sounded serious and that he was to go in that afternoon at 4 p.m. (Yeah…I asked myself where that Smirk was now?). After a myriad of testing, we were informed that Dan had a detached retina and needed surgery soon…like tomorrow. That now-shame-faced Smirk was skulking toward the door when the Doc told Dan that the operation was relatively straight-forward in young people but that there could be complications in “people of your age.” I’m ashamed to admit that the Smirk turned around and, with great flourish, gave a bow before turning heel and disappearing out the door!

The outcome of all this is that on Tuesday afternoon, a mere 28 hours after making the initial contact with the ophthalmologist, Dan was in the operating room. The vitreous fluid was drained, the tears fixed (there was a big tear at the top of the retina and a small one at the bottom), the fluid was replaced (not sure by what), the lens was exchanged, and a gas bubble was put in to keep the retina in place while it heals.

The great news is that all went well and the Doc was extremely pleased yesterday morning during the post-op appointment.

Although this was an unplanned African Experience, I have to say that I’m extremely grateful that it happened here and not in the US!

There have been a couple of (good) unintended outcomes to all this. Dan has realized that it’s not only me who’s getting older (and, by the way, this is said without a smirk in sight)! Also, I’ve been forced to drive our vehicle here…a behemoth of a truck. We bought this truck because it was easy as it had belonged to the previous home-owners and it was great to have transportation immediately upon our arrival. But we also bought it because Dan likes driving trucks and because it’s a great vehicle to take into Game Parks. Neither of us had realized that I wouldn’t drive it until we got here. However, with Dan’s banishment from driving for a couple of weeks, I’m now proud to report that I’m getting comfortable driving a behemoth truck.

Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?

The funny thing about my eye issue is that my dad had the same problem, so this was not unexpected. I have made sure to visit an eye doctor every year for observation, and was told that if there were flashes in my eye followed by an increase in floaters to seek medical attention immediately. But the ‘young man’ inside was relying on the, up-to-now, tried and true ‘denial method’ of healing. Even while receiving a battery of tests from machines I have never seen before (which is saying something because I used to work in the ophthalmology business in the Navy), I continued to think that all I needed was some eye drops and a little rest. I even fist bumped Rhia when the doctor said that the lack of pain in my eye may just mean that I had a vitreous detachment and there may be a little blood accumulation that was causing the vision loss, but that he would not know until my eyes had fully dilated. After the revelation that I had a big tear in my retina, he said that for ‘people my age’, the laser would exacerbate the cloudiness in my lens from the cataract I had (wait, what did you just call me?). So as a bonus, he was recommending that I also get cataract surgery. Deep down, though, I knew what was going on, and did not need to be dragged into the operating theatre (that’s what they call the OR here). The hard part for me is the prescribed ‘light-duty’ and the ‘keep the air-bubble pressing on the retina’ positions that I have to adhere to. Thankfully, Rhia is keeping me to task (NO COMMENT), or this could be a much longer process if it were just me. Now I have another story about Africa, big smiles!!