Brookie & Prim
"Sorry it took me so long to get to the door today, Dollie. Been to the eye specialist again this morning and he had a good poke round. Can't see a bloody thing at the mo. Ha ha... not that I could to start with!"
"Oh no, what'd he do to you this time, Brookie?"
“Well, it's the Glaucoma – he said that's officially what it was. Of course I knew that already but he's only just worked it out!”
“You've got such amazing piercing blue eyes. And your pupils are enormous, Brookie! Hard to imagine you're having such a bad time with them.”
“That's the 'Sandy Blight' that makes them look like that. Or Trachoma is the technical name for it. Can't hardly see anymore and bright light really hurts. Had it all me life you know... from living at the beach while I was growing up apparently. Me mum always said I was a sand-bunny.... couldn't get me and the rest of us kids off the beach most days. Now I pay for it of course... but that's just life I guess.”
“Can't they do anything about it now though?”
“Too late. It's permanently scarred me corneas now. So the only thing they could do would be to give me a cornea transplant. Hell's Bells, I could think of nothing worse! I'd rather be completely blind than have some other bugger's eyes glued into me sockets!”
“But it could mean your vision would be so much better, Brookie. Isn't that worth it?”
“No, love. I'm 91... so now that the Glaucoma's set in, there's just no point. Besides, I'm used to fumbling me way round this old house. And the doc said this morning that I will go completely blind eventually. Just a matter of months he reckons.”
“Oh no, really Brookie? So what will you do?”
“Well, I spose I gotta move outta here and into a small unit. Me niece says she's got something already lined up. The only thing that will stop me going is poor ol' Prim here.”
“But can't you take her with you? Most Retirement places let you bring your pets.”
“She's gettin' on now... 15 years old so she hasn't got long. And I don't want to uproot her from her home. No, bugger 'em... I'm not budging 'til she's gone! Besides, I've got a smart pink dog-coat getting knitted up for her by a lady a few doors down. Ha ha... would you believe, it's the same pink as my posh 'going out' sweater.
"Next time I go to the shops I'm gonna take Primmy and we'll both wear our matching pink jumpers. Ha ha... that'll show 'em who's too old!”
- Mrs Alma "Call-Me-Brookie" Brooklands, aged 91
(Blind as a bat, but fashionably PINK!)