Thursday, June 29
I awoke next day and things were slightly better, I could see shadows and shapes but still couldn’t stand the light. My return to the eye clinic wasn’t until late afternoon and so I stayed indoors and kept up with the medication (which by UK standards was very expensive $400 or £215). Things got better as the day went on and by the time my friend Frankie the taxi arrived to take me to the clinic some of my sight had returned, and so I got to see Frankie for the first time and he never looked a bit like I thought he would. This time I felt a bit more like talking and found out that Frankie was originally from Columbia and had been driving taxi for thirty-two years a lot of them in New York City (that explained the swearing in Spanish I had heard) I can’t emphasise enough what a nice guy he was even giving me some dark classes to help my eyes and telling me not to worry about payment if I was short. On arrival at the clinic again it was nothing like I thought it was and the staff looked nothing like I imagined, but they were all really nice people and seemed really pleased that my sight had returned. After an hour or so back in the torture chamber I was given the ok to fly home as long as I went to my local hospital as soon as possible. The next day Frankie took me to the airport for the long flight home. The only panic after that was when I was told that I needed a letter from the doctor to say I was fit to fly luckily this was all sorted out by fax and eight hours later I was on my way home.