It's my favourite hospital in London, partly because of the location and the history, traced back to the twelfth century. I find it vaguely humbling for some reason that there's been a place on that site for hundreds of years dedicated to treating the sick of the city. It's bigger than any one individual, people come and go, but the tradition and history of the place keeps on going, almost having its own momentum. There is a good little exhibition on in the foyer at the moment with old photos and illustrations from the past few hundred years, in addition to the permanent display cases of objects and ephemera relating to surgery and nursing at that hospital. There is a bit about eyes, including a current lens implant, which addresses my workmates' lunchtime musings over what they actually look like (small bits of plastic, definitely not like tiny breast implants). It's nice to have free lunchtime piano recitals that anyone can wander into, including patients, and lovely ceramic tiles including a large depiction of the tale of Dick Whittington, a former Mayor and benefactor.
The op went well, though apparently it was more complicated than usual ones. I am now recovering and have my fingers crossed that it will all heal up properly. It's very liberating not having to rely for 100% of your vision any longer on external things (glasses, contact lenses etc). Sometimes people say, what would you rescue if your house was burning down and you had a minute to get out, and the answer is usually a pet, a possession, kids. For me, it would have been all my eye stuff I suppose, not that I've ever had to put it into practise. But I''ll never know now as they're like normal people's eyes, more or less. It's REALLY great. What a wonderful surgeon.