I can see clearly now, Part Two..

After I determined I wasn't going to deal with near sightedness anymore, I took the first steps to making it happen.

First, I had to talk to my optometrist. I had heard it couldn't correct astigmatism or other common defects. (True fact - it actually can fix most astigmatisms). When I went in for my usual appointment, I asked her to check my eyes for my suitability.

I was a go! Right there, I made an appointment with a surgeon, Dr. Teplik of Teplic Surgery. I am happy to report that Dr. T was in no way, shape, or form a money-grubbing knife jockey. Whew!

My consult included a number of extremely thorough eye exams, including a map of my eyes that showed the shape of my eyeballs and corneas. Dr. Teplik told me what surgery would entail - cutting open the cornea with a laser (no knives, therefore much cleaner healing). Also, no one had ever gone blind from LASIK. That was a huge relief!

Since I had worn hard and gas permeable lenses for so long, I had to wear my glasses for about five weeks for my eyes to relax back into a natural shape. If you wear soft lenses, this time period is much shorter.  This was the only part of the procedure that I didn't like. I felt fatigued all the time, and as my eyes adjusted, I would develop dreadful headaches. I spent a lot of time napping and grumbling.

A week before the surgery was scheduled, I had another checkup with Dr. Teplik and his super-awesome staff. More eye tests and mapping to determine if my corneas had stabilized enough.

They had! I could have surgery on my scheduled day.

Next time - surgery itself.

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.