Terror in the waiting room

Photo: this pheasant is the first on the bird table most mornings. The little birds follow once he has had his fill. I think his presence has deterred the sparrow hawk.
 
Today I had a fright 
After months on the NHS list waiting  I finally find myself in Falkirk eye hospital waiting for laser surgery, or to give its correct   name YAG ( yttrium aluminimum garret ) for a condition known as posterior capsule opacification , better known as blurriness.
 
Well, naturally the thought of having my eye zapped by a laser beam  is not good news for someone terrified of  a needle.
This fear increases when the eye doctor says after a preliminary examination :“Something doesn’t add up. I want more x-rays before I proceed with laser surgery”.

So I am dispatched to another   waiting room where I see this sign  ( see extra). It does not inspire confidence.
Over the next half hour, I run through all the various scenarios. Does she suspect a brain tumour, stroke, haemorrhage ?  Maybe I  ought to consult Dr Google?

Ought I  to have updated my will?  Should I ring M and tell him to expect the worst? Before I can reach for my phone, I am called in for more x-rays.

And another consultation.
I am now prepared for the worst.  I have six months to live. How does a doctor impart bad news these days?
“What did you find? “ I  whisper hardly  able to bring myself to say the words.
“Nothing. You are fine. I don’t understand why you have been referred to me.
"Yes , I can do laser surgery but  the blurriness is at an early stage and I doubt if you will notice any difference.”

What?  Can this be true?
Suddenly I am courageous. What is a bit of laser surgery after all the possible scenarios that have gone through my mind?
“Well, as I am here,” I say, “go ahead.”

The procedure is fast and painless, a miracle of modern surgery.
And the eye doctor is right. There is little difference. 
 
PS. My over cautious optician had sent me based on a family history of glaucoma.