If you haven't yet, you may want to read the Laser Vision Correction article I wrote up, which goes into more detail on what LASIK is.
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8/27/99 Well, I bit the bullet. I had my pre-op for the LASIK laser eye corrective surgery on this past Wednesday, and fast-tracked my way to have the actual surgery done today (Friday). Obviously, I can still see, so it wasn't a complete failure, but I'll get to those sordid details later. Read on! The pre-op was just a bunch of tests -- they nail your prescription, check your eye for various imperfections/possible problems, and put drops in your eyes that dilate them to the point of making a Deadhead jealous (if you know what I mean by this, don't bother running for political office). They also mapped my eyes with this cool topographical laser -- it was like looking down a tunnel of glowing green rings, each of which maps a circular section of your eye. The resulting images were pretty interesting to look at, although I was concerned I had Mt. Shasta growing on my left eye, but I was assured that this is normal. Finally, they tested the thickness of my cornea by tapping it with this strange pen-like instrument; they had mercifully anesthetized my eye prior to doing it. This kind of thing bugs me out: I don't like things being poked and prodded in my eye (as you can imagine, this made the rest of the ordeal very interesting for me). That was about it -- they sent me home after about 2-3 hours of tests, most of which was just waiting, sipping my cup-melting black coffee. Today was the day of reckoning. I was up extremely late last night (about 4:30am) working on releasing a game (it's called Cythera -- we're always extremely busy just before a game makes it out the door), so I didn't wake up at 10:30 easily, but 6 hours is enough for me. The surgery was scheduled for 11:15am, and my morning routine was abbreviated by the fact that they don't want you to wear any colognes, hair sprays, or even wash your face the morning of the surgery. Hey, it's their nose. I just rolled out of bed, dunked my head in the sink, and said "Take me to the dance, baby!" Apparently the oils from various skin/soap products can produce a film on the laser's lens, which would be bad (but oils from your skin are OK -- go figure). For me, having this surgery done took a lot of intestinal fortitude, and a little bit of Valium. As I've mentioned before, I do not deal well with my eyes being prodded at, so I gladly scarfed down the 5mg of mercy they gave to me in the form of a Valium pill. To be honest, I didn't really notice the effects from it, but I figured it couldn't hurt; the dentist gives me lollipops, the eye surgeon gives me Valium. Seems fair. The first thing they had me do was sign the 8 page consent form, in which I essentially signed my life away. 2-3 pages listed things that could go wrong with the surgery; it wasn't exactly a pep-talk, but this is America, and they have to cover their legal butts the best they can. Next on the list was to put little scruff booties on my feet, and a shower cap on my head, to help keep the laser surgery room clean, I was informed. "Well hell, if they'd let me shower!!" I thought... Then I was reclined into a dentist-like chair, and the fun began. The headrest turns out to double as a head vise, to keep you steady for the operation -- it was actually rather comfortable to be cradled that way. Too bad the chair didn't have a massage setting. Ah well, I'll put that in as a feature request. As we went along through the procedure, the doctor would tell me what he was doing next, which was a mixed blessing. It's nice to know what is coming next, but some of the descriptions sounded menacing enough that I had a few seconds with which to terrorize myself before the event came. Sometimes having a vivid imagination is a detriment; but I digress. I'm sure this account isn't technically accurate, but it's they way it seemed to me, the humble patient. First, my eyelashes (top and bottom) were taped to my face, to keep them out of the way. Next comes everyone's friend, Mr. Eye Speculum (if you've seen the movie "A Clockwork Orange", then you know exactly what this little device is), which sits on your eyeball, pushing your eyelids open with some determination. I didn't like Mr. Eye Speculum. Next a tube-like thing is pressed against your eyeball, with suction applied to it, to make your cornea bow out a bit -- enough pressure is applied to this so that your vision slowly fades to black, like an old television that's had its plug pulled. That was by far the most uncomfortable part of the procedure... it wasn't painful, but it was disconcerting, and... "icky", for lack of a better word. Then they brought in the surgical knife, which sounded like a tiny chainsaw, and cut part of the cornea -- at this point, my vision was returning, so I could sort of see them peel the flap of my eye open, then my vision went crazy -- like a posterization effect, and they applied the laser. For a few seconds, I knew what it was like to be blind. The laser was entirely anticlimactic -- the incision didn't hurt at all (though it was weird to semi-see and know that part of my eye was being folded like clean laundry), and the laser part of our show lasted a mere 8 seconds (this was no Pink Floyd show), and was entirely painless as well. Afterwards, there was the faint but distinct smell of burning flesh (which brought me back to the days of my youth, when my brother's attempt to light his own farts, well, "backfired"). They then flipped my eye back into place, applied some drops to it, and smoothed it all back into position. After a brief rest period, it was time for the other eye -- same exact procedure. I was dreading the second eye more, because I knew exactly what was to come, including a return visit of the dreaded Mr. Eye Speculum. Start to finish, everything took about an hour (this includes my post-op checkup). Just after the surgery, everything was very blurry; it was like opening your eyes underwater in terms of how everything looked. As the anesthetic wore off, my eyes got a little irritated (it feels like you have an eyelash in your eyes), and it still feels that way now. Things are still a bit blurry and irritated, but I'm told this is par of the course -- and a mere 8 hours after my surgery, I have eyesight better than I've had since I was 12, even if it is rough around the edges. Even though I'm still recovering, the world is an extremely clear place, without glasses. It's really remarkable, almost miraculous. I am able to read billboards at Frontier Field (a stadium here in Rochester) from the window of my office -- they'd just be a blur to me without my glasses previously. Assuming I recover fully from this, I have to say that despite my trepidation, this has to be one of the best decisions I've made in my life. No, the procedure was not fun at all -- but it wasn't painful, and it was relatively quick. Having vision like this without glasses is a dream come true for me. ..... 8/28/99 I woke up today, opened my eyes, and I could see clear as day. For someone who usually blurrily searches for his glasses in the morning, this is quite a pleasant and welcome surprise. I'd actually gotten to the point where I'd put my glasses in the same place every day, just so that I wouldn't have a problem finding them the next morning -- well, no more! I had my post-op checkup, during which favorite doctor, Dr. Viola (I'm no longer holding a grudge against him for Mr. Eye Speculum), informed me that I now have 20/20 uncorrected vision! On the drive to his office this morning, I was looking around like a little kid, testing myself by reading off signs that were far away, and just generally reveling in the fact that the world was crisp and clear once again. For the next 5 days, I need to put two different sets of eye drops in my eyes, four times a day -- one is a steroid to promote healing, the other is... hmm, I don't know what the other one is, but I do what I'm told like a good patient. I also will need to aid my body in keeping my eyes moist by using plain old eye drops whenever they feel dry, as my eyes recover. During the surgery, a nerve that connects the cornea to the rest of your eye is severed, so your body doesn't know when your eye needs more moisture, so you need to help it a bit. As it heals over time, I'll have to use the drops less and less. The good doctor informed me that of the 5 patients they had on Friday, I was doing the best out of all of them. I don't know whether he says that to all the girls, but I will say that I still can't believe how incredible the experience of having perfect vision without glasses or contact lenses is. Somebody pinch me -- actually, I take that back; if I'm dreaming, let me be, I'm enjoying it far too much. There are still things that can go wrong; it's possible my eyes may become inflamed (this happens to 1 out of 5000 or so people), but this usually happens 2-4 days after the surgery, if it happens at all. Dr. Viola also told me that everything is looking very good on the surface of my eyes, except for a bit of swelling, which is to be expected. I was told that my vision may get even better than it is now, which would be downright frightening -- I feel like the bionic man already! In a nutshell: if you're thinking about this surgery, bite the bullet and do it. No, it's not a fun procedure, but at least in my experience thus far, the results are infinitely worth any risk or temporary discomfort. I still can't get over the fact that a mere 24 hours ago, I had poor eyesight. Hell, I don't mind paying a little money to improve on the genetics my parents gave me! ..... 3/24/2000 I figured it was about time I updated this page with a more long-term review of the surgery. Looking back on it now, I can't imagine ever NOT going through with the surgery. The best thing I can say about the whole experience is that I don't even notice it -- I have great eyesight, and zero problems. I've done scuba diving, hiking, running, weight training, and numerous other stenuous activities with zero ill effects. As part of my job, I stare at a computer screen for hours on end, and I don't notice any fatiguing or problems at all. To quote the shoe company with the Swoosh, "Just do it." You will not regret it; if you can afford $120 a month to pay it off in 3 years, you owe it to yourself to get this process done. .....If you haven't yet, you may want to read the Laser Vision Correction article I wrote up, which goes into more detail on what LASIK is.
Other strange adventures, stories, and pictures can be found here. If you have any questions, please feel free to email me at: andrew@AmbrosiaSW.com
Andrew Welch / el Presidente / Ambrosia Software, Inc.