Electrolicious

I had my three-month follow up today. It confirmed what I’ve suspected from pretty early-on: while my left eye was corrected to exactly 20/20, my right eye is only at 20/30. It’s not that big of a deal, but it’s a little disorienting since my right eye used to be dominant, and now my brain is trying to switch over to having my left eye dominant, since my vision is better on that side.

If I want, I can do Lasik again on my right eye, to get my vision up to the same level as my left eye. Then again, this involves having eye surgery again which, while not especially awful, isn’t something I’m totally chomping at the bit to do again. I have as long as I want to decide, so I think I’ll just mull on it for a few months.

Now it’s been three weeks since my Lasik, and here’s the news: last Thursday when I flew to the Bay Area was the worst. I’d been warned that the airplane air could really dry out post-Lasik eyes, and oh my god, that is no joke. By the time the plane was landing, I was pretty much just putting a steady stream of eye drops in, and by the time I was in the car driving from Oakland to San Jose, my right eye was stinging and burning and totally inflamed and awful feeling.

I fell asleep that night in a bit of a panic (MY EYE!!!) and woke up a few hours later with it still hurting (MY FUCKING EYE!!!!) all atwitter about oh god, if it stays like this I can’t stay at Blogher and I’m going to have to go to a hospital or something and ow ow ow my eye!

Luckily, by the time I woke up in the morning it was back to relatively ok, but I called my doctor anyway. They said just keep on it with the drops. It’s ok! Keep on it with the eye drops! So I did, and it was relatively ok, but my right eye continued to sort of bother me. It sort of faded in and out of being bothersome.

This morning after I got out of the shower, my right eye started bugging me again. That’s it, I said. I’m calling my damn doctor. It’s probably nothing, but I have to know if something’s wrong! My eye is still bothering me!

So I went in to the Lasik clinic and the doctor looked at my eyes. “Aha,” he said. “I see the problem.”

Oh god. The problem! What is it! What is it!? Is my flap dislodged? Why does my eye feel so irritated, doctor? WHY?

“You’ve got three eyelashes stuck under your eyelid,” he said, before using some teeny specialized tweezers to fish them out.

Ahhhh. See, after Lasik you’re not allowed to touch your eyes for a long time. They say this over and over again. Don’t touch your eyes! Don’t touch them!! Normally, you get an eyelash under your eyelid, you rub it out. But when you can’t touch your eyes, it sits there and makes you think you’re going crazy.

Anyway, now the lashes are out from under my eyelids and I feel awesome. Sweet, sweet relief.

In all the hubbub about, oh, you know, life threatening bike injuries, I haven’t mentioned much about my post-Lasik eyes.

I am very happy with the results. I’m experiencing the usual post-operative recovery side effects (I’ll talk more about those below), but I’m really pleased. I’ve had a few moments of confusion (falling asleep: “Did I forget to take my contacts out?” during dance class: “Hey, I can hang my head upside without my glasses falling off!” having sex: “OH MY GOD! I CAN SEE EVERYTHING!”) but mostly it’s just really really nice.

I can see pretty dang well. I was warned that as the eye flap heals, your vision sometimes fluctuates up and down a bit, and I’ve definitely had some moments of fluctuating down and being a bit fuzzy. (When I say “fuzzy,” I mean very slightly blurred — nothing like the “I can’t see past my nose” total non-focus of my pre-Lasik vision.) Even so, when I went in for my one-week post-operative check-up on Friday, I was able to score 20/20 on the vision test.

I’m definitely seeing the little halos around lights at night. Very minor and again: totally to be expected the first few months. And honestly? If they never went away it would still be totally worth it.

My eyes have definitely been dry, which is also to be totally expected. Last week I was putting in eye drops non-stop, especially when using the computer. The level of discomfort is pretty minor — comparable to having worn contacts for a long day. I’ve recently discovered eye gel, and that’s made a big difference this weekend. I need eye drops less frequently when the drops are really gooey. Plus, it sort of grosses my friends out.

As of Friday, I’m done with my week of antibiotic and anti-inflammatory drop treatment. I’ve definitely been able to feel the effects of not using the anti-inflammatory drops. A few times a day I’ll get the sensation like there’s a tiny eyelash touching my eye, or a speck of dust beneath my eyelid. Nothing agonizing, but a reminder that I need to put in some more drops and blink blink blink.

I hope I’m conveying how teeny and predictable all these complaints are. Considering that my eye was sliced open and burnt with a laser, these side effects are totally predictable and totally no big deal. I have 20/20 vision, almost no discomfort, and am totally rocking my new life as a non-myopic. It’s pretty cool.

Oh and as for the surgery itself? Getting over the IDEA of the surgery is way way more difficult than the surgery itself. Roughly 60 seconds of no-pain but total weirdness per eye? Seriously: not that hard. I was in the operating room for less than 10 minutes. I’ve had pelvic exams that lasted longer and were more uncomfortable.

PS: I still can’t wear mascara or other eye makeup for a few more days. Once I can gussy myself up again, then the real vanity will begin.

As the eyewitness reports of Dre’s bike wreck start to come in, I’m going through shock all over again. People could hear the crack of his helmet on the pavement from 30 feet away. He went into convulsions before he regained consciousness. One rider thought he was dead. I’m having aftershocks of mortification and terror and then I creep into the bedroom and watch Andreas sleep for a few minutes and almost start crying at it all … but see the eye surgery I had messes with your tear production for a little while, and so no tears come and so I just pet his scabby head and am thankful. Because what else can I do?

Those of you who had been waiting with bated breath will be pleased to hear that I AM NOT BLIND! My Lasik was a raging success, and the doctor even complimented me repeatedly on my calmness and ability to stay totally deathly still as a small mechanized scalpel cut a flap in my eyeball and then a laser burned my flesh! (Dude, worst part? I could totally smell it. It was like catching a whiff of a barbecue, except for it was my cornea on the grill!)

I told my doctor that my state of exceptional still calmness was thanks to my coworker Nick, who had advised me to go into “the yoga zone” during surgery, but it also may have been thanks to the valium they gave me and the squishy stuffed fish they insisted I hold onto during surgery (uh…wtf??). Anyway: IT WORKED! I slept for 12 hours and now … I CAN SEE!

For those of you fretting over the green glasses (raise your hand if you’ve been losing sleep!), I’m going to go get them fitted with clear lenses today so that I can continue to use them as a smart person prop and color-coordinated accessory when needed. My friend Patrick has informed me that this makes me a traitor — a four-eye poseur. This may be true.

Have I mentioned that my LASIK surgery is tomorrow? As part of my research, I forced myself to look at pictures of the procedure. Tomorrow that will be me, Clockwork Orange-style. I will be wide awake, but heavily sedated and in that special place that I can go into during yoga, pap smears, dental work, and other times of out-of-body calmness.

Tonight I have a consultation to see if I want to do what heard someone this weekend refer to as “flap ‘n’ zap,” aka corrective laser eye surgery.

I’ve known lots of folks who’ve had lasik surgery (Vera’s description was the most detailed and helpful that I’ve seen), but I’ve never really considered it for myself. Too expensive. Too scary. And I like my glasses.

Then Patrick Farley, one of my favorite online artists, wrote about a dream he had shortly after having his surgery. Last night I dreamt I was with my friends at a campout at Willits, and we were looking at the stars, and I suddenly realized, “Hey, I don’t need these glasses!” And I took my glasses off, and the stars blazed into clearer focus than ever before, a jewel-like clarity I’d never before beheld.

Then he went on to talk about how it was one of the best life improvement decisions he’d ever made. Oh. Hmm.

Then I started thinking about all my summer plans and how awesome they would be if I didn’t have to do the glasses/prescriptions sunglasses/contacts shuffle. Inside: glasses! Outside: prescription sunglasses! Oops wait, swimming! contacts in quickly. Oh but then wait back outside — sunglasses! But wait, they’re prescription, so I guess I can either squint from the sun or take out my contacts, bla bla. It’s complicated.

I also started thinking about what my glasses have meant to me. I started wearing glasses at 13, then switched to contacts at 16, then back to glasses at 22. I switched back to glasses in part because my eyes + CRT monitors = eye strain, but in part because I was kicking off my career and was aware that my babyface was a distinct handicap. At 22 I looked like I was about 17. And that was if I was dressed nicely. If I was wearing my usual daily-wear my perceived age dropped to about 15. My glasses were a way of gaining respect from the people I worked with. Sure: I knew I was smart, but glasses helped set the stage so that when I started talking people weren’t totally confused by the enormous words that fell out of my face.

Ok, so that was cool. It’s worked for almost 10 years. And now, here I am. I’ve worked my way into a place in my career where no one’s surprised by what comes out when I open my mouth. I don’t need to prove myself with glasses any more — that’s what my resume is for.

And although I might still look a little younger than I am thanks to the babyface, I’m working on some deep groove smile lines that stick around even when I’m not smiling. I don’t think I need the glasses to help me look my age any more.

And then there are all the places I’ll be able to see … in rainstorms! In the shower! When swimming! In downward dog! When making out! While engaged in sexual congress! Immediately upon waking up! No more playing “Where are my glasses,” where in I pat around blindly and Andreas looks under couch cushions and books to see where I’ve left them. My god. No more shuffling of contacts and glasses and sunglasses. Doesn’t that sound nice? Then again, I do have to risk permanent blindness and suffer through the weirdest 10 minutes ever, complete with the smell of my own laser-burnt eye-flesh. Mm. Singed eye-flesh. Patrick Farley described it as like an alien probe. That seems like a euphemism.

Anyway, we’ll see how the consultation goes. Originally, I was thinking maybe I’d do the surgery this fall, but once I made the decision that I was going to do it, I suddenly couldn’t do it fast enough. Now I’m all “Can you cut open my eyeball this week? Next week? PLEASE CUT OPEN MY EYEBALL.”

And as for my friends like Dawn who gasped, “But I like your glasses!” Don’t worry. Y’all should know I’m enough of an accessory whore to keep a pair of non-prescription specs around for the right occasions.