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Here comes the 1st
blog written in the dark-
I’ve been sequestered at in a dark corner of home like a mushroom, pacing around
the carpet back and forth like a tigeress in her cage at SF zoo, and shrinking away from beams of sunlight - as if suddenly I am a vampire.
After more than 10 years of scrutinizing the data, as well as all my post PRK post Lasik friends, I decided to go for it. My contact lenses rebeled this year, and I could not bear the idea of starting triathlon season with glasses on. Since I am on a no-clothing purchases vow for the year, laser surgery seemed like an excellent alternative place to spend my $$.
Seeing as how I only possess 2 eyes, I decided not to cheap out in any way about this. Went with Mr. "49′ers football team official eye doctor" Hyver. Sure there are Chinese docs or other docs offering services for a couple thousand less, but I don’t get frugal when it comes to my food, and my body. After my eval, it was concluded that whilst my cornea is appropriately thick, somehow my corneal curve is a tad weak to be a good Lasik candidate. So the neutral news: PRK is the same price as LAsik. And, the vision change is the same, possibly better. The bad news, instead of a one day bounce back, I’ll be out of commission 72 hours and in more pain. The upside, if I continue to do things with the potential of smacking myself in the eye (such as oh, fall off another mountain bike), the PRK is a safer choice anyways since the Lasik flap could be damaged by by mountainside shenanigans.
My students are on spring break this week, so mom drove me in for the big day. Initially, I was nervous. But following an hour of pre-op re-checking all my specs all over again ("Better one? Or two?" "read the line of letters please…") I was ready to get the hell on with it.
The actual procedure takes, oh maybe 15 seconds per eye. But first one is led into the operative chamber by a fabulously pretty African American surgery tech who must only be about 5 feet tall. We make small talk as I lay down and she pours anesthetic solution over my eyes. When Dr. Hyver comes in, I get wheeled over and told to "follow the center of the red light, even when it gets blurry and difficult." They tape the upper eyelid open, and then clamp something on the lower lid to keep it ope, making me think of the jaw clamping holder thing the subject you to at the dentist. I hear the other surgical tech say "Locking" and realize that means "Locking onto target" as in, laser locked onto my eye. Eeek. Mercifully, I can’t feel it, can’t see it. and go off in to some intellectual fugue pondering the impossibilities of doing this sort of lucid procedure with someone who has an impulse control disorder. I also start thinking about the fact that we are in Dr. Hyver’s Santa Clara office, which should mean that Specialty’s bakery is not far away…
as I walk out of the office with mom casting concerned glances my way…I feel like "Hey! I can see! I can read!" I felt perfect, as if I could have drive myself home. I spend down the stairs while talking to P on the phone, making mom nervous. I ordered our lunch at Specialty’s…and while we were waiting, I started to feel it. Prick, prick, poke in my eye. ow. By the time we drive home, tears are streaming from both eyes, and I am besieged with…something. Not pain really, and I do not doubt for a minute that I will not use the percocet prescription they gave me. But a maddening series of irritations, pusling, stinging, scratching bizarre sensations occupies my head, and I go to bed with my dark sunglasses on.
It drives me awake several times throughout the night, and I feel snippy as hell with impatience. But I still can’t believe people take Percocet for this. Whiners. A couple advils and a nice green oolong do the trick.
P has taken to calling me "Ray" as in Ray Charles, or "Trinity"
from Matrix as these dark glasses from Hyver have become affixed to my
face.
There are fascinating moments-I went to sit in the backyard while mom tended by flowers, and heard the magical whirring beat of hummingbird wings behind me while I was listening to the sparrows chirp
and the doves coo-coo-whoo. Later I felt a chill in the air and heard 3 drops sounds tinny on the pipe,
and realized that it had started to rain. I sat quietly and ate my salad yesterday. Not seeing what
was in it. Every bite holding a surprise. Here is a kernel of corn, a slice of
advocado, a tomato bit, a sunflower seed…sort of meditative eating.
When I hug P, I am taken with the
laundry sheet smell of his sweater, the gel on his head, pay more attention to the timbre of his voice.
I am truly unsure if I have ever in my entire life spent this many days not working, not reading, not writing. I try to meditate, but I am losing my mind feeling idle. I remind myself that it is healthy to slow the heck down instead of hurtling through space all the time multi tasking as if apocalypse is this coming Sunday. When I have bouts of tearing and irritation, I lay back and tell myself, "epithelium, epithelieum, it’s a good pain, the epithelium is growing back."
I listen to public radio, and feel depressed about Iraq and Tibet. Frying some eyes through squinty eyes in a dark kitchen becomes a massive accomplishment. I keep trying to read but it hurts. I listen to an audio book, where the main characters’ Aussie friend ultimately dies of shotgun suicide, which makes me cry a little, as IF I need more freaking tears in my current situation. When P leaves me to play B-ball, I have my own impromptu blind dance party at home, playing the 80’s mix that normally powers my runs. God only knows how bizarre that little work out looked, as I threw in stuff I could remember from bellydance, kickboxing, ballet, and random 80’s dancing. haha, who cares, no one could see it, not really even me!
Moments now, I see clearly. Way better than before, like when I turned
today to seek that hummingbird, and I saw that shiny green, iridescent, dark eyed beauty look back at me. “Better
than 20- 20" is that the boysih Pilipno opthamologist had predicted a he guided me
through surgery prep.
But other times, I can not keep my eyes open, they feel
irritated and stabbed by the light. I have to physically pry open lid to squeeze in my drops. This one for pain. This one for anti-inflammation. This one for anti bacterial. Tomorrow is my post-op follow up, and they will take off the protective contacts currently glommed into place.
