Author: Alastair Millar

I want the best for my wife. Of course I do. And what Doctor Singh suggested wouldn’t have been possible even a few years ago; a generation ago, it would have been utterly unthinkable. It’s expensive, but I’ve always said that I’d do anything for my darling – and curing her blindness would be a dream come true. We’ll find a way to pay the bills, however difficult that might be.

People always ask how we manage, usually meaning that they want to know how I manage, and not just financially. In truth, it’s less trying than they imagine. Lois has always been independent, and determined, two of the qualities that attracted me to her in the first place. Losing her sight as a child must have been terrible; her mother told me that it was a difficult time, but that she became both resilient and more or less reconciled to her condition. Since this opportunity came our way, though, her face has lit up every time we’ve talked about it; seeing that, I can’t let her down, whatever the cost.

Normally a pair of biorobotic eyes wouldn’t have been affordable at all for people like us; we’re not super-rich, more like on the fringes of being moderately well off. But Doctor Singh had worked with some people at Eyesomere Inc. before, and convinced them to cut us a deal – we get a much reduced price, and in return we agree to let them download recordings of whatever the new eyes see, for the next twenty years. There’s even a privacy app to switch the recording function off for 30 minutes, which can be used twice a day. It’s still invasive, but after some thought, we said yes.

Now I’m sitting in a comfortable waiting room as they perform the procedure. They claim it’s perfectly safe, almost routine, but that doesn’t make me any less nervous. There’s always that chance, no matter how small, that something will go wrong. But when Lois and I talked it over, we agreed that it’s a risk we were willing to take, so here we are.

She’s always had a habit of running her hands over my face and calling me handsome, which I am not, but it makes me smile every time. I hope that when she can see me, she will still think it’s true. She is beautiful, although I don’t think she believes me when I tell her that. Why should she, when she can’t look in a mirror? But it’s not just flattery; she could have her pick of the menfolk. Now I worry that when she realises, she’ll go looking for some better looking guy; I’m probably more scared of that than of the operation itself.

So I guess this is a wake up call for me, too – it’s time to do better, and be better, if I want her to stay with me. Wish us luck; for different reasons, we’re both going to need it.