Saturday, March 23, 2013

LASIK: How it went (early results)

The short answer is great.

Why I couldn't get full prescription in my left eye: In a previous post, and for weeks, I've been talking about how boss it's gonna be to see clearly from my left eye. Well, during the pre-op/consultation, the doc told me that's basically never going to happen. Part of why the vision is so bad in my left eye is the shape of the eyeball itself-- it's longer than my right. He could fix the lenses, but given that full Rx contacts or glasses gives me double vision, he would suspect fixing the lens to full Rx would do the same. Lasik can basically give you what contacts can give you (or slightly better), but that's about it. The double vision I get with full Rx contacts comes from the left eye being longer, so I'm basically seeing from two different distances. My brain can compensate better for blurry than for clear. So he could get me to slightly better than contacts, but not perfect in the left eye.

It was disappointing to hear this, but this wasn't the only reason I wanted LASIK, so it did not deter me in the end.

Plus, I really appreciated the doc doing a massively thorough exam. I was there for two extra hours for the pre-op while they mapped out everything, determined about my left eye shape and why I get double vision, and then determined that that is not symptomatic of other bad things it could have been symptomatic of. All of this was included in the cost, so I'm glad he went all out. I got my money's worth on that end, definitely.

The procedure: They warned me it would be uncomfortable but not painful, and it was. The procedure itself is very... off-putting. Describing it later, Charlene said it sounded like an alien abduction. That's exactly what it was like-- trust me, I know from experience. I've seen the X-Files.

They gave me some valium and I got all calm. Even fell asleep a bit while waiting. The doc came in and described everything that would happen in detail. It went exactly as he described. I lay on the table with my head in the headrest. He moves the table around until my right eye is lined up with the laser. They tape back my eyelashes. Then they put the Clockwork Orange thing on my eyelid (Note: he did not call it that, but come on. That's what we're all thinking.). I stare into the little red light. Then they put the suction cup on my eye and cut the dreaded flap. He pulls that open. I stare into the giant red blob. Then the laser goes. Someone else counts down the time-- 20 seconds for my right eye, then 30 seconds for my left. It smells like burning hair. Put everything back together, tape it closed, move on to the left. After the left eye was done, there was no taping. They said to lay there for a minute until I felt like I could get up. I had my eyes closed when I stood, seriously, maybe a minute later. The doc said, "You can open your eyes." I did. No bandages. I didn't even need my eyelids. The healing starts that quickly.

Of all of that, the laser is the least bad part, by far. The Clockwork Orange/alien abduction parts with the lights and the eyelash tape... not much fun. But it's not painful at all. And it's really quick. I was in and out of there in under 15 minutes. Immediately after, I was glad I never have to do that again. But even by the drive home, that immediate aversion to the experience had faded.

Afterward: Charlene and Michael came in and we had the alien abduction conversation. Everything was fogged, but not blurry in the bad-eyesight sense. It was like looking through really fogged glass. After a few minutes, I suddenly read Michael's t-shirt and started to cry.

My appointment was at 1:00. We were out of there maybe 2:30 or 3:00. We stopped to get burgers on the way home to feed my constant craving, but wound up getting them to go. I was home by 4:00. By this point, the itchy/dry/irritation I was promised felt about like when you're cutting a really strong onion. I took some painkillers, put on an audio book (The Marvelous Land of Oz by L. Frank Baum) (highly recommended) and dozed. By 5:00 the onion chopping feeling had mostly faded. It felt like when you sleep in your contacts, and you first wake up and they're all dry and gummy and kind of foggy to see through. That's what it felt like, and that's how the world looked. I listened to more of the book, now on the couch with Valu, until I fell asleep.

This morning I can see. Both eyes. True, when I close my right eye, my left eye is blurry. But less so than it was with contacts. My right eye is perfect. With both eyes, it's perfect.  Clarification: perfect means focus. I do still have some light fogging, especially around the lights. It's like everything is in soft focus. I see the world in Glamour Shots, or in a Liz Taylor perfume commercial. My eyes feel kind of dry with a periodic instance that's like grit in your contact. It passes quickly. And I can see.

What comes next: Facebook friends have warned me it won't settle into full normal non-foggy as-perfect-as-Kati-can get vision for a couple of months. And I guess that makes sense. I'm going to be on a whole load of eyedrops for that long. Right now it's four-- prednisone, antibiotics, fake tears, and one that will cause me to make more of my own real tears. After a week it'll just be the latter two, to keep my eyes nice and wet while they heal for the next couple months.

They said I can resume normal activities pretty much now (no swimming for a month). I'm gonna take it easy this weekend, but I do intend to go look at beautiful things. Maybe I'll go watch the sunset tonight. Maybe I'll go see the sunrise tomorrow. I feel really joyous and thankful right now.

And now Valu wants to eat.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

To See...

Like many adolescents, my vision began a slow decline in my pre-teens or early teens. I'm not sure when exactly. Youth.

When I was 19 and 20, I worked at a Lenscrafters as a lab tech. I knew all about vision and glasses and curvature of lenses and things like that. Because it happened while I worked there, I know exactly when my left eye took a sudden and extreme turn for the worse. Between one year and the next, the prescription in my left eye more than doubled. My right eye continued its slow decline.

That year, when I put on my new Lenscrafters glasses with the full prescription for both eyes, I couldn't see at all. If I closed one eye, I could see independently out of either one perfectly. Open both eyes -- double vision.

My left eye had become so much worse than my right eye that my brain could not compensate for the different curvature of the prescription lenses. It happens sometimes. The doc gave me a lower prescription in my left eye. Right eye, perfect vision. Left eye, blurry vision. Both eyes, and I could see just fine. My brain was able to compensate for blurriness better than for lens curvature differences.

I haven't managed a full prescription in my left eye since.

Which means I haven't seen clearly out of my left eye in 14 years. My entire adult life.

About ten years ago my sister got Lasik. She has told me periodically since then that it is the best money she's ever spent. I've been waiting to have money to get Lasik since then. Between living in intentional poverty (see Tangled Hair in the Windy City) and then grad school, that's never happened before. But now here we are-- fully employed people. School debts paid off.

Today is Tuesday. I'm going in for the consultation and pre-op on Thursday. I'm going in for Lasik on Friday. I cannot justly express the excitement and anticipation that is coursing through my veins and heart and stomach and brains and lungs and every other molecule of my body that might have some physiological reaction one could reasonably label as excitement. All of it. I feel all of it. Pretty much constantly. I'm going to see clearly for the first time since the 1990's. For the first time in this millennium.

Am I nervous about Lasik? Not at all. Even if they tell me I have to do one of those other procedures that hurts more and takes longer to heal... don't care. There is no limit to what I am willing to do for this. I want TO SEE.

What I am nervous about is that during the consultation/pre-op, what if they tell me I am not a candidate for some reason? I think I will lose it entirely. If that happens, don't expect to see me too soon. I'll be on a drunken bender. Or possibly in jail for having torn apart the eye-surgeon's office after he gave me the bad news. Keep your eye on the news Thursday afternoon-- that's when the fireworks would happen. If you don't see any headlines, "Climate Change Researcher Flips Out" or "Blind Rage--I See What You Did There," then we're cool. I'll be drumming my fingers in barely concealed excited anticipation.

Fourteen years. My entire adult life. This millennium. When I think about seeing clearly -- out of both eyes -- in just a few days, I get all weepy. I just want to cry from joy. I think after it's confirmed, or maybe after it happens, I really will cry. Just let the waterworks come. You know me, I gotta see it to believe it. But oh man, when I see it, it's gonna be some celebration times.