And here comes another Day.

“Der Tag” as they called it when the Germans invaded France.

How many do we have?

Those big days when major life defining event happen.

How many can I count?

Kathie’s passing?

The first time my complex terminal driver logged me on to a Digital VAX computer?

My first day at Microsoft?

Moving across the country with Fianna, Trevor, and James?

Getting together with Cynde?

The day my father died?

September 11, 2001?

The day Cynde left?

The day my mother died?

And finding out that dear Elliott was dead.


Oh the dead. Geez. I have lost count. Perhaps it is time to sit down and gather the recollections and photographs of all those wonderful people that have had such an influence and added so much color to my life and that of others.


Standing high on the mountain of my life

I gaze in wonder at all.


Now it is off to Boston to finally get my grotty eye fixed after four years of living with permanent dirt in my eye causing irritation and often making it difficult to read and see. My animal fears tempered by my intellectual knowledge. And the wonderful friends that wait me. Dena Joy and Robin and Brian. How lucky can a man get? Three warm loving friends waiting with open arms and hearts that care and, dare I say, love me.


            What is this wind that drives us?

            And where are we going?


After the disappointment of getting a 1993 SVT Cobra from Pennsylvania that, let’s say, was not as described, I found another on eBay. This beauty is an original teal blue 1993 SVT Cobra with a leather interior and, get this, 4100 miles. Many of these original 1993 Cobras wound up being garage sitters for older owners that decided eventually they would be come collectible. In some sense they are, but the numbers and taste of the day are directed toward other vehicles making these an unusual buy. I am getting this one for under $20,000 including delivery. Just on the basis of what it is, I couldn’t match this with anything on the market today. Even a basic 2005 Mustang with a V8 would run upwards of $28,000 and would not have the performance and cache’ of owning an original unmodified 1993 SVT Cobra.


Thus this trip mixes the dread of surgery. The hope of surgery. The delight of fantastic friends and lovers. And the experience of seeing and buying a wonderful new toy.

I guess that is what life is all about anyway.


And the trip did get off to a good start. As I got to the airport early, it seemed like a good idea to check out the Alaska Airlines club lounge and see about joining. When I entered the lounge, I mentioned to the counter lady that I am a Continental Airlines Platinum Elite. She immediately made a copy of my card and announced Alaska would make me a Gold MVP for a year. This was neat because I got the Platinum Elite via Continental airlines elite match and wasn’t qualified for this year. I then got a huge discount on joining the club. The lady then announced, “I am putting you on the list for an upgrade for your Boston flight.” And here I was resigned to sitting in 8E, a center seat for the long flight. But would I clear and get the seat? Yes I did. There were three people with possible upgrades. I was number three and didn’t hold out much hope. Then came the announcement, “Mr Goldberg, here is your new boarding pass.’ So instead of being stuch in a coach middle seat, I write this from 3F in the First Class Cabin. Isn’t this just another reflection of my nutty kind of good luck?


Der Tag: January 12, 2005


My appointment for the eye surgery turned out to be later in the day. Dena Joy and I went over at roughly 1 PM for me to get prepped. First I met with a staff anasethiaologist to discuss what they were going to do. I expressed my desire for general anesthesia and she responded, as did Dr. D’Amico, that he would not operate on an unconscious patient except in the rarest of circumstances. Dr. D’Amico does this based on his experience that many second surgeries he does to fix a first surgery happen due to eye movement under general anesthesia.

And so it was.

My anxiety remained under control as I finally laid down on an operating gurney to get prepared. They quickly inserted an IV fairly painlessly and started a sedative drip. Without realizing it, I went under and they did the full eye block. They did this as the eye block is the most painful part of the surgery and it wasn’t dangerous knocking me out to do that. I didn’t even know I had been under when the nurse, Fay, said, “It is time for you to go into the operating room.” I asked, “What about the eye block?” She said, we have already done it. At that point, I realized the entire right side of my face was numb. In the operating room, I was conscious as I am right now. I heard Dr. D’Amico working with his colleague as they evaluated the eye. What I didn’t know was they quickly ascertained that my bad vitreous could not be cleaned out by the simple “25 gauge” stitchless surgery but needed to be done with a full blown open eye victrectomy. Thank god I was in Dr. D’Amico’s hands for this turn of events. It affirmed my decision traveling to Boston for this in the first place. I didn’t feel a thing when the operated and saw one of the best light shows in my life.

At first I felt nothing. As the anesthetic wore off, the eye was pretty sore and angry. I took pain pills that night and the next day. Most irritating were the three stitches they needed to close the eye. These stitches dissolve over a period of time.

The next morning Dr. D’Amico inspected his work. All was well. He said the stitches would take two weeks to dissolve.


January 19, 2005

After coming home, I called my regular ophthalmologist for an appointment. He saw me on the 8th day after surgery. When he looked into my eye, he exploded with delight. “Marshall, this is amazing looking in and not seeing that sea of debris in your eye!” He praised Dr. D’Amico’s work. After looking at the stitches, he noticed my body was rapidly healing over them. This could well cause a bump on the surface of the eyeball and impede the dissolving of the stitches. He then said that removing the stitches posed no danger and would hasten the healing of my eye. As the stitches were bugging me pretty badly, I said, “Please take them out.” He numbed my eye surface quite a bit and went to work. Jane, who took me over, came into the room to see him work. The stitches were so deep, he had to dig into the eye surface a bit to get them out. This resulted in some sensation, but nothing too bad. What a difference. I left floating on air and several times forgot that my right eye had ever had surgery.


What gift.

What a life.

What luck.

What wonderful doctors.

What wonderful people.


And so Der Tag has come and gone. My eye is fixed. Four years of visual difficulty resolved. All hail to the new age!