From the Beginning

The Day of Surgery:

Hubby and I dropped off the kidlets and headed to the vision center. It is approximately 40 minutes away from where we live, but we made it there in about thirty (thanks to hubby's lead foot). We headed to the Target next door because I'd been so nervous, I hadn't had anything to eat. I knew they would be giving me anxiety meds so a stomach with padding (food) would be best. I had a hot cinnamon and sugar pretzel. Yum!

We headed over to the vision center directly after, with only ten minutes to spare (thanks to an uber slow check-out lady who felt it necessary to learn the life stories of every person in her line). I signed in and the receptionist asked my name. She pulled my file and directed me to a desk directly west of her to make payment. One thousand of the payment came from varied sources, while the remainder (about $2500) went straight to their finance company (no interest for two years). I could hear a girl behind me complaining that her eye felt like it had sand in it. The nurse explained that it was probably the bandage contact lens (must be a PRK patient, I thought immediately).

"Bandage contact? When can I take it out?"

"Your optometrist will take it out in four to five days."

Uh, talk about uninformed! What the hell?! I have to say that the clinic does a great job at letting you know what to expect. When you call to schedule an appointment for your scans, they send you a huge packet to read through. The day of your appointment, you are given a portable DVD player to watch a video on the various procedures and how they work. Then, after your scans, you talk to a counselor who tells you everything to expect. How the heck didn't she know about the bandage contact lenses? I wanted to take her and shake her when I heard her complaining. Hubby was in total agreement. Even he knew what to expect.

My payment taken care of, we were directed to an area I hadn't been to before where we were asked to sit down. "Aurora" asked me if I'd filled my prescriptions and brought my refresh tears. But of course! She then told me that most patients were offered something to calm them down for the surgery. I was nodding even before she told me what she was going to give me. She giggled a bit and offered me a valium. Within minutes, I was taken to an exam room where hubby and I were greeted by the optometrist we'd met at our last visit. He had me read a sheet with information about the procedure (Girl in the waiting room, didn't you read your sheet?). He then performed another eye exam because it had been one month and one day since my scans were performed. Talk about thorough! He gave me a surgical bonnet and booties to wear, then he told me that the doctor would be in to talk with me shortly.

Hubby asked how long the procedure would take, then excused himself once the Aurora assured him she would call just as soon as I was done. The doctor arrived soon after hubby left and talked to me about the procedure. We also made some chit-chat about where I was from, which led him to tell me about his best memories of Nashville (oddly, they were of his first visit to an Outback Steak.house and his dish of their succulent crabs). I asked him about my sensitivity to lenses and how I was worried about the bandages. He asked me to tell the optometrist, once I saw him again, to give me diluted numbing drops. This gave me a great sense of relief.

The doctor left and I was moved to a waiting area where "Makayla" gave me instructions about my drops. Oh, and the Valium was starting to kick in. Great stuff! She told me that everything was on the sheet, since I was worried I would forget. It seemed as if I would be putting in drops all the time.

Behind me were two chairs, which I dubbed "Chair 1" and "Chair 2". There were patients in both. After a few minutes of being in the waiting area, the person in "Chair 1" was escorted into the surgery room. The "Chair 2" patient was moved to "Chair 1" and I was moved to "Chair 2". Makayla added numbing drops (which burned a bit) and my eye lids become very heavy and sticky. After a few minutes, she was back to add more drops. I sat feeling like a drug-head for just a few minutes more, when "Chair 1"'s occupant was moved into the surgery room. I became the new seat-warmer for "Chair 1." Makayla was back with more drops. Goodness! More? The, she took something that looked like a small double-forked prong and headed for my eye. She was going to mark for my astigmatism. She touched my cornea and I reacted.

"Can you feel that?"

"Yep," I informed her directly.

"Okay. Let me get some more drops." Gosh, were my eyes just immune to this stuff? (Later, when I looked at my eyes, I saw two, blue dots on either side of my pupils where she made her markings.) I chatted with the former "Chair 1" occupant's hubby, who informed me his wife was getting mono vision surgery in one eye. In "Chair 2", a very nervous lady sat fidgeting, nervous about her second run with Lasik (it seems one eye was over corrected). Thankfully, this clinic I used covers enhancements.

Mono vision lady appeared and her hubby grabbed her arm, then wished me luck.

"You're up," informed a nurse. I headed into the laser/surgery room where they laid me down on a table. I was asked to slide up and place my head in a cylinder type head area. My knees were raised and I was offered a "teddy bear". The teddy bear was a soft brick with tape all around it. I assumed the tape was to repair where fingernails had dug into it, once too often. I accepted the brick and prepared myself.

The doctor asked me to stare ahead at the green, flashing light. My first thought? The hulk is going to appear! I know, I'm such a nut. There were four, bright lights surrounding the green light, which sort of reminded me of stage lights. I kept my eye on the green light, as I was instructed to do. Again, more numbing drops and this time, I felt like my eyes were really numb. They taped down my bottom and top lashes (weird). Then, the added the speculum to keep my eye open (they described everything they were doing). Next, the doctor put on some sort of cup that placed pressure on my eye. It was uncomfortable, but tolerable. He then added the alcohol which would remove the epithelial layer from my cornea. The cup would keep the alcohol from running all over my eye (weird) and he informed me that the light may disappear while this process was performed (it did). He then washed away the alcohol, and the green light soon reappeared. This process (the alcohol portion) took 35 seconds and I could hear the nurse counting down the time. I got the impression that he was scraping away the epithelial layer that had been eaten away, but he did not say this. I was grateful, but I could certainly tell what he was doing. Next, the doctor informed me that the laser would correct my vision, and this would take 7 seconds. There would be a burning smell (and there was...weird...like burning tires) for the time frame the laser would be working. After the laser, he rinsed my eyes again, put in the contact lens and added an eye drop of some sort. The whole process took about two minutes, tops. It was then repeated on my left eye.

They were listening to the easy listening station and I was very aware of hearing, "Live Like you were Dying" as my surgery took place. How about that for a permanent memory. :) The nurse gave me her hand and pulled me up. Immediately, I could see very clearly. I expected this...I also expected what happened after taking about five steps; total blurriness. I was escorted back to the exam room and asked to sit with my eyes close.

To my great surprise, I heard "Aurora" come in and ask me if I'd like a fresh baked cookie. Heck yeah! Ooey, gooey chocolate chip loveliness was placed in my hand. She even set one aside for hubby. Next, the optometrist came in and took a look at my eye with the "scope". Bright light! Bright light! Man, they weren't kidding about light sensitivity. Yeesh! It was like a burn to the brain! They could see the dead epithelial cells off to the side of each eye. Eww! I hoped all the drops I would be using would wash those suckers away. They asked me if anyone had called my hubby. I wasn't sure. They made me put on my blue blockers then escorted me up front. The optometrist himself began placing the call to hubby when who should step off the elevator? I gave hubby his cookie and my thanks to everyone there.

We went to Sam's to pick up prescriptions (the lighting was horrific, even with the sunglasses), then we went home and I rested with the aid of a percoset. Later in the evening, I ate a bit, talked to my girls, then went back to sleep. My eyes didn't hurt or bother me, but there was a lot of blurriness. The goggles I have to wear for sleeping are crazy and I find myself sweating around the eyes from lack of circulation. I'll be glad when I don't have to wear them anymore (they don't look anything like the protective lenses hubby had to wear after his Lasik procedure. Not sure if these are are step up or not).



Day 2

I woke up to blurry vision and dry eyes. Hubby took the children to school and trained his client, while I rested in bed. I listened to my book on CD (Thrill) and ate myself into oblivion. Stress/boredom eating is not good when you're trying to get back into your two-piece. As the day wore on, the dry eye issue worsened. I met with my optometrist who was convinced I'd show up, pimp slap him and cuss him out (I thought that was pretty funny). He was amazed at how well I was doing and said that the epithelial layer was growing back nicely. After checking my vision on the chart, briefly, he said I was around 20/30 to 20/25 vision,

"But you understand it will get worse before it gets better."

Indeed. I understood this well. I told him about the numbing drops and how I hadn't used them yet, since the optometrist at the vision clinic informed me that it would hinder the epithelial growth. I told my optometrist that I would only use them as a last resort and that I would mainly rely on my refresh drops and percoset for pain management. He told me not to hold back and I assured him I wouldn't. ;)

Day 3

Ugh! The agony! Based on every story I'd read about PRK, this was to be the worst and, for me? It certainly was. Everything was so blurry and jumpy. My eyes felt like there were sand particles in them and I had the sensation that I was viewing everything from under water. I had to get the babe ready for her dance performance and apply some semblance of make up, before my mother arrived. My mother ended up putting on the lipstick because I couldn't focus on both the child's lips. Crazy! I took a percoset mid-day and slept to try and get past the day. I listened to From Dead to Worse on disc, along with a bit of Thrill. Hubby was very attentive, seeing to all my needs and generally being a good husband. I was on my drops like a crack addict, just to try and help the recovery process along. Overall, day three really sucked. I just prayed I'd get through it without being too much of a bitch.

Day 4

So much better than the day before. I even felt up to driving. Bad idea. The road was jumpy and the vision was super blurry with lots of ghosting. Good thing there isn't a lot of traffic on Sundays. Hubby wasn't impressed that I took it upon myself to get behind the wheel of a vehicle. How could he stop me, though? I, at least, brought home a stellar breakfast for everyone to enjoy. I ate with the family and enjoyed the company of my hubby and girls. By breakfast's end, I was ready to rest again. Hubby joined me in the back on his laptop (the ultra bright screen turned away from me, thank you very much) while I listened to the last of my Sookie Stackhouse book. He provided me with drops every hour, on the hour and helped me keep up with my drop-schedule from the doctor's office. I was off the Acular by this time (although, I never noticed it removing any pain). I really didn't have pain during any of this, per se. It was more discomfort than anything. Great discomfort on day three, but never pain. (blurry vision = blurry picture...sorry, folks)

Day 5

I drove my kid to school without too much difficulty. I then took Netflix videos to the post office, then back home for my drop-schedule (Here's an observation: the Omnipred feels the best...not surprising, since this is the steroid. Also, the drops run down my nose and throat, sometimes. They taste god-awful). I then took the youngest to the park, briefly (too hot). So, off to the library where she picked out her first book (on her own) to check out. It took a little persuading to get her to put the book on the counter for scanning. She just didn't want to let it go!

I've stayed on my refresh drops on the hour every hour and what's funny? I totally don't have to watch the clock. I know when it's time. The dryness is unmistakable. Can you believe I have to do this for the next month? Only after a month can I back down to refresh drops every two to three hours. It's totally necessary, though. Until the eyes learn how to produce their own moisture naturally again, this is what I'll have to do.

I suppose I'll limit the PRK updates to once a week or so. I believe my description here gives a pretty clear picture on what to expect. Everyone is different and healing is a long, slow process. I am optimistic, however. Every time I get a glimpse of visual sharpness, I think, "Woohoo! That's what I have to look forward to."