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So, yeah. I can see. Admittedly I could see before, but now I can actually read book title from all the way across the room. It's really cool, except for that at the moment it still feels like i'm wearing contact lenses, so not so different yet.
I nearly didn't get to have the surgery, because apparently my left eye hadn't completely resumed its natural shape after I stopped wearing contact lenses two weeks ago. But they put some artificial tears in my eyes and redid the test that checks its shape, and decided that it was borderline enough that they'd give it a go. Which is a good thing, because otherwise I probably would have had to wait until Christmas or something daft like that.
They did lots of other tests, too, to figure out different things about my eyes; one of them involved putting a very very small condom on some instrument (to keep it sterile...) and touching it against my eye. I found this amusing, 'cause I'm like that. My right eye was much worse than my left, but I've known that for years. -7 something in my right, but only -4 something in my left. This meant that for my left eye they could do this slightly more sophisticated correction called wavefront technology, which basically means that they measure your eyes at about 200 different places instead of just one. So an extra test for that eye, which gets downloaded to a floppy disk and used in the actual procedure.
It was very strange; they gave me a valium a bit before the procedure, but I wasn't particularly nervous at that point anyway, but when it came to them actually doing the various things, like taping back my eyelid and putting pressure on my eye for whatever reason, I was petrified, even knowing that I didn't mean to be, and the valium didn't help a bit. So personally? I think it's a useless drug.
After it was all over, I could see better than before, but not perfectly; they had me look at the clock on the wall, and I could see what time it was, but I figured it was 'cause there were awfully big numbers and hands on that clock. Then again, I actually doubt I could've done so before. Then I had to keep my eyes closed for four hours, with these protective goggles over them, so I told my mom to get me something for lunch and not tell me what it was. I successfully managed to guess that were in the Whole Foods parking lot, and that I was drinking pomegranate juice (that bottle has a very distinctive shape) and eating barbeque chicken pizza, but somehow I didn't manage to grasp the concept that she had bought the pizza at Whole Foods. Yes, I'm slow on the uptake.
So now my eyes hurt a bit (my right one more than my left at the moment, for no conceivable reason), but things are generally good. And Dr Maloney (the surgeon) has recommended a good eye-doctor up in Berkeley, so this is extra good.
I nearly didn't get to have the surgery, because apparently my left eye hadn't completely resumed its natural shape after I stopped wearing contact lenses two weeks ago. But they put some artificial tears in my eyes and redid the test that checks its shape, and decided that it was borderline enough that they'd give it a go. Which is a good thing, because otherwise I probably would have had to wait until Christmas or something daft like that.
They did lots of other tests, too, to figure out different things about my eyes; one of them involved putting a very very small condom on some instrument (to keep it sterile...) and touching it against my eye. I found this amusing, 'cause I'm like that. My right eye was much worse than my left, but I've known that for years. -7 something in my right, but only -4 something in my left. This meant that for my left eye they could do this slightly more sophisticated correction called wavefront technology, which basically means that they measure your eyes at about 200 different places instead of just one. So an extra test for that eye, which gets downloaded to a floppy disk and used in the actual procedure.
It was very strange; they gave me a valium a bit before the procedure, but I wasn't particularly nervous at that point anyway, but when it came to them actually doing the various things, like taping back my eyelid and putting pressure on my eye for whatever reason, I was petrified, even knowing that I didn't mean to be, and the valium didn't help a bit. So personally? I think it's a useless drug.
After it was all over, I could see better than before, but not perfectly; they had me look at the clock on the wall, and I could see what time it was, but I figured it was 'cause there were awfully big numbers and hands on that clock. Then again, I actually doubt I could've done so before. Then I had to keep my eyes closed for four hours, with these protective goggles over them, so I told my mom to get me something for lunch and not tell me what it was. I successfully managed to guess that were in the Whole Foods parking lot, and that I was drinking pomegranate juice (that bottle has a very distinctive shape) and eating barbeque chicken pizza, but somehow I didn't manage to grasp the concept that she had bought the pizza at Whole Foods. Yes, I'm slow on the uptake.
So now my eyes hurt a bit (my right one more than my left at the moment, for no conceivable reason), but things are generally good. And Dr Maloney (the surgeon) has recommended a good eye-doctor up in Berkeley, so this is extra good.
