I'm Back

Special thanks to my husband Adam for keeping my blog updated on Saturday when I wasn't supposed to use the 'puter. On Saturday I had my eyes lasered (see photos previous entry). According to my eye exam yesterday, my vision is already 20/20 and should get even better by the end of the week. I can't get over the fact that I don't need glasses. When I go to the washroom, I stand far back from the mirror just for kicks. My new hobby is looking at stuff that's far away.

The actual surgery was a freaky science fiction experience. I was lead into a darkened laboratory with two men and a woman wearing blue bonnets, blue pjs and white lab coats. The surgeon introduced himself to me and told me to lie down on bed that looked like it belonged in a starship sickbay, with a quasi-futuristic triangular pillow for my knees. The woman put what I assumed were numbing drops into my eyes.

Looking up I could see two small lights, the lower one was light green, the top one red. Throughout the procedure the surgeon kept repeating: Look at the red light. Look at the red light. Great. You're doing Great. Like the mantra of some bizarre cult.

After my left eye was taped over, the surgeon began by taping my eyelashes back. Then he used device similar to one used in a Clockwork Orange to pull and hold open my right eyelids. It took him three tries to get it in properly. Great. You're doing Great. Look at the red light.

Then he placed a monocle over my eye and told me that my vision would get dim for a minute. "Suction on," he ordered his associates. For a brief moment everything went dark, then I saw the red light again. As they turned the laser on the red light began pulsating, and I heard a popping, crackling sound and smelled a chemical odor similar to burning hair. Look at the red light. Keep looking at the red light. Great.

Then the right eye was done. As he was untaping my eyelashes he said that pulling the tape off is the worst part. Ha! Hardly. The left eye was.

Same drill as the right, except I felt it. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to be worried it was going to hurt, and enough to be aware of everything they were doing. When they cut my cornea this time I could see this clear plastic-looking flap being pulled up. That's part of my eye, I thought. Oh, gross, that's my eye! There's always a little more sensation in the left, one of the men said. Now you tell me.

When they were done they lead me into to one of those stick-your-chin-here-and-your-forehead-here stations and examined their handiwork. The woman held my eyes open while the surgeon painted my eye with a paintbrush. Just making adjustments, he said. Adjustments?

"You have a beautiful flap," one of the men said.
"Thanks." I replied.

After the surgery my vision was foggy. For contact lens wearers, you can compare how I felt to the irritated tearing sensation you get when contacts first go in after sitting in cleaning solution. I couldn't keep my eyes open, so when I got home I took a nap. When I woke up, 2 hours later, it was like I had never needed glasses. It was amazing.