This week saw most people "Looking through the eyes of love", as the old song says - giving flowers and chocolates and Valentines. In that spirit, I gave myself some long over-due cataract surgery. While not especially romantic, it was eye-opening. Literally.

Who knew that my house was painted a bright lemon yellow? That my cat had spots? Or that my blue pin-stripe was actually a bright lime green zoot-suit that any pimp would love? And wait until I find that furniture salesman who sold me an orange Naugahyde sofa instead of the sexy brown leather Restoration Hardware sectional I pointed out in the catalogue!

But seriously, there is no way to describe my surprise and delight when I finally could see clearly again. Coming back to Turkey Hollow from the surgery, my face was plastered to the window of the car as I once again discovered the nuances of color, depth and detail. It was as though I was seeing things for the first time as the outside world unfolded to me in glorious crystal clear vision. Like HD-TV for the pupils! Because of my struggle with my throat tumor at the end of last year, I had postponed having my cataracts removed. By the time Dr. Coad got me in the operating room, my vision had gotten so bad that, for months, life for had been one, big, creamy blur.

The thought of someone operating on my eyes didn't exactly thrill me. Having Dr. Coad who is viewed as one of the best in the business helped to calm my nerves but I still wasn't wild about the idea. But I knew it was time for surgery when driving down Turkey Hollow I mistook a mailbox for a deer.

What I didn't know was how easy it is, with the right surgeon, to successfully remove cataracts. You go into the hospital, get into the gown with the drafty open back, have a few tests and then wait. Finally onto a stretcher you go, wheeled down to a parking space outside the operating room for your turn. Before you know it - bingo - you are inside. While chatting with medical team, you are painlessly operated upon and within a half an hour you're outside in the recovery room. If you would have - or could have - blinked, you would have missed it!

They give you a warmed-up muffin and coffee in the recovery room just like the old days when you gave blood at the local blood bank. A little leather kit with a regimen of eye drops and a really cool pair of sun glasses make up your post-op gift swag bag. I ended my day back in my dark hotel room watching "Enchanted" - the modern day "Cinderella" - and falling asleep wondering if my eyesight would be much better in the morning.

Well, I hate to employ the hoary gay cliche, but I woke up feeling like Dorothy - going from the dull black and white of Kansas to the dazzling Technicolor of Oz! It was extraordinary!Days later, I still can't stop looking at everyone and everything, taking it all in, comparing and contrasting, examining every fine detail. If I didn't know better, I would swear they had slipped me some mushrooms or psychedelic drug! The colors and textures were jumping out at me and I could see road signs again! No more heading to DC when I thought I was going to New York!

Most of all, I am just totally grateful for science, good doctors and rejoining the world of beautiful colors.

Now, about moving out that orange sofa.......