When he was in the office she peeled the bandages off of his face, slowly moving the layers of tape and gauze and finally the patch over his eye. With saline solution she washed the dried tears that held his eyelid shut, then gently helped him open his eye. The drops to dilate were applied and once they'd worked she began to inspect her work. There wasn't much of a view for him, the air bubble blocked any images and allowed him to only see that there was light.
After all of the prodding and looking was done, he paid his co-pay and made his way out the door, wincing when the bright sun hit his freshly uncovered and dilated eye. Pulling the brim of his hat down as far as he could, Carl braced himself and headed to the bus stop to begin the trek to the private office of Dr. Matthews. At least there were less stares at him as the bandages were gone, he kept to himself on the side of the bus, just looking forwards to getting the next visit over with and being able to head back to his couch.
The office wasn't as fancy as Dr. Danvers place, but it also wasn't full of elderly people but a more normal mix and felt a bit cozier without the fake feeling that large businesses tended to get. The magazines were also varied, relating to different age groups and interests, though tended to lean towards environmental topics. Taking up the latest copy of Time magazine, Carl found himself a seat to the side and awaited to be called.
When the male nurse called out his name, he followed along to one of the examination rooms and took a seat, starting the wait again sans magazine. The sound of heels hitting the tiled floor let him know that she was on her way in, him slightly raising his head enough to let his good eye look at the bottom of the doorway. They spotted lean calves covered in a pair of nude pantyhose before her greeting reached his ears. He watched her walk up to the chair, and felt her hands gently guide his head up so that she could get a good look at his eye.
"I hate to have to keep putting you through this," she apologized as she applied another dose of the dilating drops to his eye.
He shrugged slightly, "starting to get used to it. Just nice to know that my eye can at least sense light, ya know?"
"I bet and fortunately no, I don't fully know what you mean but I do understand the fear." Her coffee colored lips gave him a little smile. "I'll be right back, just need time for the drops to work."
The scent of her perfume lingered in the air and for the first time since he'd first noticed the problem with his eye, Carl felt a bit aware of the opposite sex. The meds and shock had depressed his senses but the perfume seemed to fit her and he savored the smell while it remained, feeling his body relax a bit more than it had in quite some time. Just getting to feel a bit more normal and notice things like that were pleasant. Earlier he'd felt his stomach rumble, with a craving for one of the giant turkey sandwiches from the corner delicatessen and had intentions to pick one up on the way home.
The rest of the appointment went about the same as the one with Dr. Danvers examination, right down to the blinding light been shone into his eyes. Dr. Matthews examined the work, which gave him a little bit of ease getting a second opinion on how the operation went. She confirmed the previous statement that he could spend more time holding up his head instead of always having to face the floor. She also reiterated that it would be months before he should be willing to try and workout.
By the end of the first month, he was slowly gaining vision back in his eye as the gas bubble ever so slowly dissipated. Each day was wearing on his patience, having never before appreciated being able to run when he wanted, head to the gym when he wanted, hell to even just go out for a hike when he wanted. Instead, he had to stay idle and his waistline was beginning to show it. Before he'd been able to eat to his fill and eat what he desired within reason, while being able to maintain a fairly trim shape. Carl hadn't realized just how many calories he'd been taking in to maintain that active lifestyle and controlling his weight from just diet wasn't something he was accustomed to doing.
While he was elated at the fact that he still had vision in his eye, the joy was being quickly overridden by the drawbacks he was experiencing. The lack of exercise was really taking its toll on him, quickly putting pounds on his body and when he would notice the weight it stressed him to see just how fast it had been added. Unconsciously this triggered him to eat more to help replace the positive chemicals that he was used to getting from working out along with having to overcome the depression of seeing his once fit body becoming flabby.
It was a vicious cycle that was exacerbated when Dr. Danvers dropped the news on him that he'd lost the 50/50 gamble and the surgery had caused a cataract to form. Carl had noticed his vision seeming to fade a bit but had hoped that it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Not wanting to believe it, he went to see Dr. Matthews, hoping that perhaps, just maybe, the first diagnosis had been wrong. Even before she spoke the words, he knew what the answer would be, he could see the change in her jaw tension as she viewed his eye.
Fortunately this surgery wasn't as pressing as the previous, so the date was set two weeks later to give him time to arrange a ride and the time off from work. It didn't help the growing depression, fueling it with anticipation and fears of what if this surgery went wrong, or what could go wrong because of it. While Carl made the best of appearances when he was in public places, his body was showing it, having grown a spare tire around his waistline. "I'll deal with it later, maybe after the surgery," became a routine morning mantra when he stepped out of the shower and faced his mirror.
There were no prescriptions to pick up for this surgery, instead Dr. Matthews just told him to have some aspirin or Tylenol on hand. She had scheduled him to show up first thing in the morning, joking with him that it was so that he didn't suffer missing breakfast. It caused him to flush a little when she mentioned that, wondering if the weight gain had been that obvious. The usual pre-surgery instructions followed, including that he couldn't have anything but clear liquids. Carl wondered why exactly that affected an eye surgery but decided that might be best for another time.
The morning of the surgery his mother drove him to the hospital, the drive in rather quiet during the pre-dawn hours. The inside of the hospital was mostly dark beyond the emergency rooms, many of the day offices were still empty and waiting for their workers to arrive. Light spilling into the hallway gave away the ophthalmology department, causing his stomach to lurch as the next surgery grew close and this one to be without going into twilight. His largest concern was that he would be able to watch the knife, watch the operation, worried that he would have to fight with himself to not stop the surgery and that he would have nightmares of a scalpel entering his eye. In many ways, these things worried him even more than the original surgery to save his vision.
Upon entering the office a nurse quickly whisked him into a prep room, his fears forgotten as the usual stack of paperwork was presented to him in regards to consent of the operation and the inherent risks of any operation. The nurse offered him a fabric robe, suggesting that he wear that instead of his shirt, and laughing at his shock of not having to wear another dreaded paper gown. The drops were applied one more time and he was left in the mostly dark room to wait for them to work and the surgery room to finish preparations.
As he lay there, the fears began to return, worry about how exactly the surgery was going to happen what he would remember from it. The lack of memory of the previous surgery had been a blessing and now he wished that this one would have the same result. Alone in the darkness he waited, unaware of the time passing, only of his fears and his own exhaustion from the lack of sleep. If it wasn't for the fears Carl would have fallen asleep, but they kept him awake and staring at the door waiting for it to open.
When the door finally swung open, Carl shut his eyes tight as the bright lights of the hallway flooded the room. Dr. Matthews soft voice met his ears, "I guess the drops have done their job. The room is set, I just wanted to be sure your eye was ready, then we'll try to get this over with quickly."
He just nodded quietly, feeling a little numb and surreal at the pre-surgery discussion, but more than ready to just be done and over with it. Once upon the table they administered the local anesthesia, waited for it to kick in, and then began the procedure. Carl winced, waiting to see the scalpel come into view...and it never came. A couple of minutes in he could hear the discussing the next steps to take and realized that he couldn't see out of the eye at all. Mentally he breathed a sigh of relief, the fear fading away allowed his body to just relax as much as possible and wait for the surgery to be over with.
A cloth was brushed against his face, cleaning up any fluids, and Dr. Matthews pronounced the surgery done. Carl blinked, honestly a little surprised at just how quickly it had gone. Back to the exam rooms he was led and instructed to take a seat while a nurse fetched his mother for the after-surgery care instructions.
Dr. Matthews passed over the paperwork outlining the care, "now, the local will start to wear off within the next hour. He shouldn't feel much in the way of pain, though there may be a headache. Generally aspirin will take care of the headache but if it doesn't call me and we'll arrange something a little stronger. Your eyesight should return as the anesthesia wears off, which is what can cause the headache. You'll need to avoid rubbing the eye much, instead it would be better to use a regular saline eye drop. I would recommend not driving for the next 24 hours, 48 would be better just to be sure the local has worn off. Other than that I'll see you early next week for your check-up." She offered him a quick smile and opened the door for Carl and his mother.
True to the doctors words, he began to deal with a headache just as the sight in his eye returned. Carl was so delighted at the return of his sight though, that the headache was a mere afterthought and after taking a couple of aspirin he spent his time revealing in being able to see clearly. After the two surgeries, the pain, the recovery and disappointment, he could finally see clearly again. Well, clearly after he blinked as the thought of the struggles brought tears to his eyes and clouded his vision in both.
The next week's appointment found him in a much better mood than he'd been in quite a while. Carl hadn't noticed any difference in the vision since the surgery and was almost completely readjusted to having depth perception again. He'd also started walking around the block, going roughly about a mile to a mile and a half at a normal walking speed. It wasn't much but it got him out and about, which was all that really mattered to him. He had made it a point though that he planned to ask Dr. Matthews what he could do beyond walking to shed the excess weight.
When the nurse called him in, he went to the examining room and through the usual steps of getting his eye dilated. Then came the quiet wait, sitting on the exam chair while listening to the goings on around him. The doctor explaining care to another patient while he could hear in another room a mother calm her son down from bouncing around. His eyes found the eye chart on the wall, challenging himself to see how well he could read the lines again. All the while grinning to himself at the simple fact that he could see clearly again. Even if it wasn't perfectly matched up to where he was prior, the eyesight was close enough for him.
When Dr. Matthews came in, she had him sit on the edge of the chair while she shut the door behind her. She then lined him up with the slit lamp, setting his chin and forehead into place. Carl felt her hand resting upon his knee and presumed she was just using him for support. As the exam went on, he began to notice that her hand had moved its way up and two of her fingers were currently stroking the head of his cock through his jeans. When she noticed that he'd caught on to what she was doing, her lips turned to a smile and a soft "shhh" greeted his ears.
He watched as her head ducked down and felt her fingers slide up, catching his zipper and yanking it down. Her hand slipped into his jeans, pulling his rapidly hardening cock out into the open air. Red stained lips wrapped around his shaft just below the head, slowly working their way down. Carl could feel her moist tongue bathing the underside of his cock as it entered her mouth. He was frozen in the chair, caught in surprise and ecstasy, watching this stunning blonde work his cock with her mouth.
When he was fully hard, her hand came up to wrap around the base of his cock, kneading and squeezing it softly. Head began to bob as her grey eyes looked up to search for, and found his eyes, locking on to him. He could feel her tongue caressing the underside of his cock, the tip flicking over the head, swirling around it then returning to the underside as she began to suck back in. Never did she miss a beat with it, her teeth perfectly kept away from his sensitive shaft.
Having had no real interest in sex since the first surgery, Carl didn't last very long. His hips thrust up, her holding him back just a bit, squeezing his shaft tight before loosening it and letting the flood spew forth. Carl's hips bucked hard and he woke up with a loud groan, sitting straight up in his bed. It took him a minute to realize that the room he was in was dark and that his bed was certainly not the examining room. Glancing at the clock he realized it was just 2am, the night before his next appointment. When he went to move the clock to face away from the bed, he discovered his hand coated in a thick layer of cum. "Damn..." he whispered as he drifted back off to sleep.
Sitting in the slit lamp, for real this time, was a little more disappointing as she showed no indications of hinting that his dream was more than just a figment of hope. Just the light scent of her perfume wafted through the air, occupying his imagination while she did her examination. Finally she leaned back, turning the light off.
"Well it looks like everything is still snugly in place and healing up quite nicely. I think once we get past the concerns for the retina you'll be able to go back to life as normal. In fact I think you could consider taking on a little light work if you so desired." She leaned back with the satisfied smile of a professional job well done.
He nodded at that and licked his lips, "Well I've taken up walking around the block. Is there anything that you could recommend beyond something like that? I'm more used to cardio, running, and lifting. Light workouts aren't something I'm accustomed to."
"Well...don't laugh at the idea but I usually recommend trying yoga. You'd be surprised how much the flexibility helps with other exercises," she paused, waiting for him to blow the idea off like so many other young men did.
"Ummm...well I guess it's an idea. Not sure where I'd fit in though."
"If you're actually interested in checking it out, I know of a pretty decent place for starters. And yes, there are usually some guys in the classes so you won't be alone. Though, a young man as yourself might just enjoy being the only man amidst a group of women."
A slight blush colored his cheeks at that, it had been a few months since his last relationship. "Guess it couldn't hurt to check it out. No stone unturned or something like that, ya know? If you know the name of the place I guess I can check it out."
"The class is held in the local Bally's," she gave a little grin, "so no one will see you going into there and think you're going to a yoga class. It's a good amount of work, don't be fooled by the stigma. Oh, and wear loose clothing, especially as your muscles first get to stretch out."
He just nodded, making a note to call the Bally's for the time of the class and see if he could fit it into his schedule. It was, well it was at least an idea and something that was more than taking a walk. Besides, maybe he'd get a chance to run into her beyond the walls of an operating room or medical office. Maybe even get a chance to see her without a lab coat covering what he assumed to be a lovely rear.
Carl stood in front of the door to the gym utility room, dressed in a loose pair of shorts and a t-shirt, debating actually opening up the door. Yoga had never appealed to him, always figuring it was the realm of women. Of course, it was a woman that had made yoga even remotely appealing and hell he had to get to doing something to work on the spare tire. So he'd signed up for the free one week trial, figuring he would be able to fit in two, maybe three classes and see if he liked it before putting any real money into it. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the door, eyes quickly glancing around as he stepped to the side and away from the door.
Inside he found a group of people, primarily women but there were a couple of guys present. Most of them were in the process of picking up mats from a closet, so he joined in with them. What had at least pleasantly surprised him was that there was a mix of people at the class, ranging from thin to thick, making him at least feel less out of place with his excess weight. After getting one of the thin mats, he placed it in the rear row and looked around the room. He presumed the woman fiddling with a radio was the instructor and watched as some folks seemed to go through limbering exercises.
Figuring it might be a good idea, Carl began to try to limber up as well, finding out quickly that he was not as flexible as he once was. Grumbling to himself, he worked through the warm-up stretches he used to do before running, unsure if they would help but figuring they couldn't hurt. As he warmed up, the instructor got the radio working and the room was filled with a mix of Coldplay along with the grunts and groans from the weightlifters next door. It made for an odd combination and yet uniquely a gym mix, he'd once known someone who listened to Bach while lifting, claimed it put him in a good mental state.
Finally the instructor called the class together and began to explain the plan for the class, todays was to be a hip stretch. She began by instructing them through going into a standing forward bend with a block for support. This she called their check-in pose, causing him to quirk a brow and think that at least there were no funky pose names yet.
The class was then led through a warm-up period, taking them through various poses with encouragement to think about the muscles that were connected to the pelvis. Some of the visual cues that she gave them to consider were a little more than he cared to consider but he could at least feel the stretching. These she rolled into a standing yoga stage, leading into a different set of poses that challenged his balance. Carl could feel the ache of unused muscles being stretched beyond their normal state. In some ways this truly surprised him, he hadn't legitimately considered yoga to be much of exercise.
The next stage was known as the Deep Release and in this they were instructed that once in the pose they would be given time to consider the pose. A long blink and a quizzical look were on his face as Carl tried to figure out what she meant. Apparently he wasn't the only one, judging by the look on her face, as she then explained that they would be given time to feel out the pose, to allow the stretch to dissipate away. He nodded lightly when it was explained that they were to get to understand the sensations from that particular pose and become familiar with it.
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