Those are the words that came out of my optometrist’s mouth when I asked him about Lasik.
No sugar coating, no warm fuzzies…. we jumped directly to the “Laura with an eye patch” visual.
And yet, somehow, I’ve still managed to sign myself up for Lasik surgery. In a mere 58 hours or so, I will be laying on what will no doubt be a cold, hard table under a laser light show that will be nowhere near as cool as the ones at DisneyWorld.
My vision has sucked for as long as I can remember. From the first pair of blue plastic-framed glasses in second grade to the contacts I’ve worn since years of begging finally wore down my parents in high school, corrective lenses have been a constant for almost 20 years now.
I can’t quite imagine what it’s going to be like on Friday morning to wake up and be able to see the alarm clock. The one with the 6-inch high glaring red numbers that sits within 12 inches of my bed and is still difficult to read when I wake up at all odd hours of the night. I’ve had that clock since about the time I visited the eye doctor for the first time. It’s been in every bedroom I’ve ever had, every time I’ve moved. Even now, Brandon has his fancy clock with two alarms and itty-bitty, teeny-tiny green numbers that are just an annoying, blurry glow in the middle of the night, and I have my behometh on my side of the bed.
Seeing the clock when I wake up is the only thing I can truly say I’m excited about right now. I’m sure I’ll find other benefits after the surgery… no more waking up to gritty contacts in my eyes after I fall asleep reading, and no more contact lens cases taking up space on the bathroom counter… but right now the clock is all I’m focusing on.
I had my final pre-op exam today. I’m a perfect candidate, so there’s no turning back now. My eyes were fully dilated (Brandon says I look like a lemur) and look ready for surgery. I got worried, though, when I realized today that no one in my optometrist’s office has had Lasik done. At some point or another, or the past 5 years, every person there has mentioned something to me about their bad eyes. The optometrist, the technicians, the girl who cheerfully takes my Visa card and swipes it when I leave…. they all have contacts or glasses.
Why have these people not had a surgery that they see the results of all the time? If Lasik is a great as they keep telling me, why not do it firsthand? Do they know something they’re not telling me? It’s not really giving me that feeling of comfort that I’d like to have before willfully sticking my too-steep corneas under a fiery beam of light.
Say a quick prayer on Thursday morning that all goes well and I don’t end up staring at that clock with just one eye because of a botched surgery. My depth perception already sucks.