I can see clearly now, Part One.

I know this looks like a seductive gaze, but mostly I just couldn't see what was going on.

I've been asked to tell the story of my LASIK surgery. Here's the first part.

Ever since vision correction surgery became possible, I said I would never, never, ever do such a thing. I was happy with the correction that my contacts gave me and I didn't want some money grubbing knife jockey mucking about in my delicate eyes.

This was not some frivolous statement. I started wearing glasses around 1973 (second grade, if you must know) and got hard contacts in 1982. I *meant* it when I said, "No damn way in hell."

My Call to Adventure (remember that? It's the stimulus that takes a hero on her journey) was the oddest thought I'd ever had. I was washing my feet in the shower and I realized that I had no memory of ever seeing my feet in clear focus.

I knew I had to have seen my feet clearly at some point in my life. I was much shorter at one point, and my eyes had slowly degraded over the years. I had to have memories of what my feet looked like.

You know what pissed me off? That when women can't see their feet, they usually get a baby out of the deal. I was just freaking near sighted!

I wasn't about to live with this any longer. I didn't want to squint my life away. I didn't want to spend my days worrying about my contacts popping out.


I decided that I would investigate if I were a good candidate for eye surgery.