I can see clearly now - II
posted in Science |(Alert readers may note that there’s a comment down on Part I from "LASIK complications". After some thought, I let that one in because–even though I feel that the folks behind the LASIK complications site have an agenda–anyone who is considering LASIK needs to understand that there are risks and those are your only pair of eyes. But also take a look at PubMed listed studies about LASIK and come to your own conclusions. Since I generally think that people who read me are Thoughtful, Intelligent, Respectful People [aren't you??], that probably goes without saying after all…)
There was no question as to who I’d use for the surgery–all my elderly relatives in Arizona who had had cataract or other eye surgeries had used one or another affiliate of the Barnet-Dulaney group, generally well-respected folk who were on the cutting-edge of eye surgery research. Word had it that every one of the docs there had gotten PK or LASIK done to their eyes as well–sort of putting their money where their eyes were, as it were. They were pricey–$2000 per eye–but every time I saw "bargain rate" LASIK ads, a shiver of fear would go through my body. And Grandma was paying for it. And she said "Get the best!"
First, you go get your eyeballs measured. They have to be able to tell if your cornea is thick enough to be blasted by a laser. Ahem. Just wrap your brains around that phrase for a moment or two: Is your cornea thick enough to be blasted by a laser?!?! They also have to figure out if the pressure in your eyeballs is too high, whether you’ve got an astigmatism which would complicate the contouring, etc.
Then the day of the big event came along. I was alternately thrilled and terrified. At the time, BD did two days of LASIK surgery per week, Thursday and Friday, giving the patient time to recuperate over the weekend. So I had a coworker drive me over on Thursday morning, and got into the cattle line.
Oh, yes, make no mistake: it’s a truly Ford-like assembly line approach they’ve got going. At the very start, you get one-on-one, where the doctor and nurse make sure you’re absolutely positively thoroughly sure you want to do this, they give you a goodly dose of valium, and then you get into the feedlot.
The feedlot being a huge waiting and recovery room filled with comfy recliners, dim light, music, and a herd of pre- and post-LASIK folks zoned out on valium, waiting for their turn or recuperating.
It’s somewhat surreal to be zoned on valium at the same time you are maximally uptight about being blasted by a laser!!! while listening to Muzak and swapping poor-eyesight-war stories with the guys in the recliner on either side of you.
Then it’s your turn. You get loaded onto a gurney and pass under the industrial-size clock that looks like a brown circle with a white center with fuzzy brown blobs at roughly the quarters of the clock, and through the swinging double-doors into the operating theatre. Where they have four LASIK operations going on at once. I tell ya, these folks were making real money off this procedure–and this was back in 1998!
So there you are, lying on your back, about to subject your one and only pair of eyes to the awesome power of being blasted by a laser!!!, and the doc and nurse come to you and explain they’re going to just pop an eyelid stretcher into your eye. My immediate thought was, "They’re what?! I’m not going to be able to handle this!" At which point, the nurse stretches your eyes open, the doc’s hand swoops down until your eyes go cross-eyed trying to focus on the black ring he’s holding, and poof! your eyes are forcefully held open and it doesn’t hurt or scare you after all.
That valium is good stuff, I tell ya!
And then the doc positions this huge piece of machinery over your head and slices an ultrathin slice of corneal flap so quickly you hardly remember it. Then he asks you to focus on the pinpoint red light above you.
If you’ve got 20/600 vision, "focusing on the red light" is sort of an oxymoron. The best you can do is try. And the "pinpoint" red light is actually a great big fuzzy sparkling red blob. But, hey, okay–the man wants you to focus on it, so you do your best.
Then the doc says, "Here we go. Keep focusing on the red light."
At which point, he flips a switch.
And the road construction workers who were cleverly hidden in the operating theater go to work, full blast.
KRRRR-THUNKA-THUNKA-THUNKA-KRRRR-THUNKA-THUNKA-THUNKA
It sounds like a jackhammer. It’s not like lasers in the movies, that make a nice, discreet "Brrrp!" And as the jackhammer is hammering away in the background, the great big fuzzy sparkling red blob you are focusing gets clearer…and sharper…and clearer…and sharper…until it’s a tiny, brilliant red speck in the darkness above you.
The whole thing takes 30 seconds.
Then they switch eyes and do the same thing for the second eye.
Then they wheel you out.
Just like that. Wham, bam, thank you Ma’am.
They wheeled poor ol’ valium-doped me back into the recovery room, in a different recliner, taped great big bug-like metal sieve things over each eye, and let me recuperate. I glanced back at the operating room doors, and realized that the industrial clock, previously a brown and white circular blob, was now in clear and utter focus. I was halfway across a room that measured at least 50′ long, and the clock was in focus. I could read the minute marks!!! I looked around, through my bug-like eye coverings, and saw everything in the room as if it were etched in glass.
(Cue angelic chorus singing "Ahhhhhh!")
I had to wear the buggy eye-coverings for two days. I had to use special eyedrops for a month. My eyes felt gravelly for a week. And that was it.
Folks, I tell ya: It’s a bloody miracle.
Now for the less miraculous news: They undercorrected my left eye. The whole deal included an option to go back for a recorrection within a year, and, looking back, I should have done it. But it took so very much gumption to risk my eyeballs the one time that I couldn’t bring myself to do it a second time, and then time passed, and then, by the time I was ready to do it again, the year had already passed. Bummer! So I had 20/20 vision in one eye and 20/50 in the other. And, alas, my eyeballs continued their ever-increasing nearsightedness, so at this point, I think I have 20/30 in one eye and 20/60 in the other. I do need a very light prescription to drive as a result of my wimpiness. But y’know what? Even with that, I think LASIK is the miracle surgery. I highly recommend it.
Just don’t go to one of the fly-by-night operators that advertise "LASIK for $500!"
