I see

Yesterday, my 27 years of wearing glasses and contact lenses came to an end. I had Lasik vision correction. Yesterday, I couldn't see the largest E on the very top of the eye chart. Today I can see the tiniest letters on the chart! Want to hear how it went? Of course you do. You like hearing gory details and I like giving them.

I arrived at the vision center at 930am. I was taken into a testing room to have my eyes re-tested, just to double check the numbers. Before I even leaned in to stare at yet another red dot, I was given a Valium and some water.

Nurse: Here's your Volume.
Me: (twitch)
Nurse: You should start feeling the Volume in 20 minutes.
Me: (twitch twitch twitch)
Nurse: Have you ever taken Volume before?
Me: Please stop calling it Volume before I have a seizure.

Ok, I'm too nice to say something like that. But come on, lady. You give people Valium all day long for a living. You can't say it correctly? And you're not even southern, so there's no excuse.

And she wasn't the only one. I was escorted to the Zen Room, which is a darkened room with a fountain where patients are supposed to zen out and let the VALIUM take effect before surgery. One dude was sound asleep and snoring. Another dude leaned in and asked, "Can you feel the volume yet?"

No, but I don't understand how I am supposed to zen out to the VOLUME of "Born To Be Wild" playing on the stereo. That's not very zen. And I said so. Everyone in the room laughed except for Snoring Dude, who kept on snoring.

One by one, everyone left for their surgeries. I was left with a guy named Bob who owns a car dealership in Illinois. Bob was hilarious. He kept asking where the shot girl was with extra shots of Valium. I agreed. It had zero effect on me. And on Bob. We were both jittering out of our seats.

Then it was my turn. I said goodbye to Bob and the zen room, which was currently playing The Locomotion. I was taken into another exam room where a friendly man in scrubs put numbing eye drops into my eyes and opened up a sterile package containing a pen. He explained how the doctor was going to make marks on my eyes. "But don't worry, you won't feel a thing."

The doctor was going to write on my eyes? Bad oldies music or not, I wanted back into that zen room. But it wasn't bad. The doc came in, shined a bright light in my eye, made his marks, and repeated it on the second eye. It felt like someone was placing a contact lens in my eyes, no biggie at all. And with the bright light, I couldn't see the pen coming at me.

Then it was show time. I was taken into the operating suite that had a big machine and a long chair, almost like a dental chair that fully reclined. I laid back on the chair and was given two small squeezie soccer balls. Then the lights dimmed. The doctor sat behind me and said he'd talk me through the entire procedure.

First he taped open my eye, securing both sets of lashes with tape so they would not fry under the laser. More numbing drops were placed in my eyes. A large piece of machinery moved over my face. I was told to look at the little orange light. It looked like a circle of white light with an orange dot in the middle. That's all I could see, that's all I was aware of in the room was that circle and dot.

Then an instrument was placed on my eye to hold it open and more numbing drops were applied. Still no pain. He said I would feel the need to blink, but wouldn't actually blink. Then he said all I needed to do was focus on the orange dot. And then it all began.

I was aware of a suctioning sensation on my eyeball, then pain. Actually the pain was pretty intense. It got to the point where I was about to say something, then it immediately stopped. Then I was told the dot would go away and everything would go dark. And it did. And here's where it gets confusing. I'm not sure if the popping noise of the laser happened next or not? I was really focused within and even tho it happened in both eyes, when I go to that place in my brain to soothe scary and traumatic thoughts, I tend to forget details of the actual "trauma."

I can tell you when the popping of the lasers began, I smelled my eye burning. Oh yes, you can smell it! It doesn't last long and at this point there was no pain. I was then told the orange dot would come back into focus and it did. Then he said he would pour a cooling wash in my eye. It felt great. Then he said I would see the image of a sponge sweeping over my eye. I did. It did not hurt. I couldn't feel it at all, actually.

There was some measuring and some numbers called out and the next thing I knew, he was removing the lid tape and placing a protective shield over my eye. Then it was time for the left eye.

This is when my heart really began to pound and I was regretting not asking for another Valium. The left eye went just like the right, including the same amount of shocking pain to the point where I wanted to yell ow, then it abruptly stopped. Then the same thing as the right. But it did seem the left eye took longer. There were more numbers called out, more measurements being done.

It took about 2 mins for the right eye and maybe 3-4 for the left. A shield was placed over the left eye, I sat up, the lights went on, and I was told to look at the clock. I could just make it out, but the shields over my eyes and the tape securing the shields made it a bit blurry.

Then I was taken to Matt, and we were given a bottle of wine and post op instructions, and sent home. I walked outside with Matt and could see everything, including our license plate in the distance. But I still shut my eyes and let Matt guide me to the car. I kept them shut the whole way home.

My eyes didn't hurt, but they did feel gritty, sandy, and at times like a tiny piece of glass was floating around in them. Nothing extreme, mostly annoying, but totally understandable under the circumstances. Easy to accept, let's put it that way. There was no need for painkillers.

We got home, and I tried to eat some lunch, but really felt like laying down. I ended up napping about an hour and when I woke up, the cut glass in my eyes feeling was gone. My eyes felt swollen and uncomfortable, but not painful. I spent the rest of the evening on the couch, listening to TV. No TV, no reading, no computer.

Sleeping with the bug eyed shields over my eyes was not a problem, but I did wake up with my eyes glued shut from the drops they had used. I removed my shields and hopped into the shower and was amazed that I could read the labels on the shampoo bottles.

Actually I was freaked out by the experience. After 27 years of having such poor vision, it just felt so weird to be able to see so clearly. I was also worried about protecting my eyes and anxious to get to my post op appointment.

I was able to drive myself, just marveling at the clarity of my vision. Road signs! Tree branches! Cracks in the road! I could see EVERYTHING!

I am currently at 20/20 vision and will improve slightly over that. That was the promised vision amount, since my vision was pretty poor to begin with. My reading vision is perfect and I am not having any distortion. I am getting some slight haloing around bright light, but nothing extreme. It currently feels like I have worn my contacts way too long. Slightly sore eyes, but no pain and no cloudiness.

I have a series of drops to use several times daily for a week. About 20 mins after use, I get a bitter taste in the back of my throat.

I see the doctor in one week for a follow up visit. Until then I am to enjoy my vision, but not the actual look of my eyes. No eye makeup allowed! The drops tend to crust up a bit around the lids, ack. I'm not very pretty right now.

I do believe I felt more pain than others usually do during the procedure because I have extremely deep corneas. Just a guess and I forgot to ask the doctor that question this morning.

I am just so shocked that this is real, that I can see without glasses or contacts. I've been waiting for this for a very long time. This was made possible courtesy of a few voice over accounts that came in at just the right time. I went to a doctor who is one of the best and his prices reflect that! I should have it paid off as soon as my voice checks arrive, which is a relief and makes it even sweeter.

Any questions for me?

Lasik Pre Op details

I had my lasik pre-op appointment today.

It's a three hour intensive eye exam to make sure your eyes and you are darn ready for surgery. No messing around! Either you're in. Or you're out. And hopefully that means in with good vision, out with boring old glasses or toric contact lenses that never seem to fit right.

The exam starts with machine hopping. You go from eye machine to eye machine, and stare at tiny red light after tiny red light. Stare at the red dot. Blink. Stare at red dot. Blink.

When I was asked if I tend to pass out during medical procedures, I got a bit nervous. The one and only time I did was the first time my eyes were dilated for an eye exam as a teen. Things got a bit blurry, I panicked, and BAM! I was out.

I laughed nervously and said nahhhhh nooooo. Not after all I've been through medically! But inside I was a bit worried. I could just picture myself passing out, hitting the exam table, needing stitches, and the eye institute saying SORRY you are too wimpy to be a candidate for Lasik.

The eye exam lady said at least one person passes out from the next test we were about to do. At least one, maybe two to three. A week. Good lord what were they about to to do me?

My eyes were numbed with drops and then two thin strips of paper were inserted into the lower lids of each eye. It's to test tear production to make sure you make enough tears to be a Lasik candidate. Some people get a bad case of dry eye post Lasik so they want to be sure you are a natural tear-er.

She stuck the paper into my lids and told me to close my eyes and then asked a dozen questions about myself. I guess that was a distraction tactic. Get me talking about my favorite subject, me, and I wouldn't think to pass out. It worked. I didn't pass out and described the sensation of the paper in the lids to feel a bit like the the application of false eyelashes.

I make great tears. So it was then time to fill out a ton of paperwork saying I won't sue if suddenly the power goes out mid-procedure and the laser fails to cut my eyeballs properly, and on and on and on. They really cover their asses at this place.

Once they get your signature and initials a dozen times, then it's time to dilate the pupils. Drops were put in, I was escorted to a waiting room, and given a magazine to read. I felt a bit panicky. No control freak likes to lose control over anything, much less vision. After about 20 mins I realized I was still reading the magazine just fine. It wasn't until I looked up at the clock on the wall that I realized I couldn't see the clock on the wall. Ack! Everything was blurry and I couldn't focus my eyes.


That's when I was called in to see the doctor and was informed I have a lazy eye. The right one. It has a name. Not the eye, the condition. I don't remember what it's called. I was told that as a child, I should have worn a patch over my left eye to train the right one to be stronger. I didn't, because I never got eye exams as a young child. So my left eye learned to see in place of the right eye. I was so sure he was going to tell me I was no longer a candidate for Lasik. But no! I am. I will just only have 20/20 in the right eye, whereas the left eye will be even sharper. But that's ok, because the left eye does all the work anyway.

Then I was sent on my merry way. Let's just say I should have had a driver. I had zero business driving myself home, my vision was THAT blurry. I ended up pulling off at a nearby exit and having a bite to eat, just hoping those drops would wear off. They did enough for me to take less crowded side streets home.

Here I am, now EIGHT HOURS post eye drops and my eyes are still dilated. I am typing this in the dark and squinting at the screen. What the hell is in those drops?

I want to make a point to you moms of youngins reading this post. Get their eyes examined yearly. Problems are easier to solve when caught at a young age, before the problem gets much worse.

And that is what the three hour pre-op lasik appointment is like. I'll be sure to come back and post all the gory details once I am post op. Next week! That is, unless I get the puke virus going around Boo's school. Cuz knowing me, it will hit the night before. That will make Lasik Day Cancellation #3.

Do your eyes feel twitchy yet?