What is seen and NOT seen, Part Deux.

Awhile back, I told you about my eye surgery.  All of the gory details of it.  But what I’ve not told you is that it didn’t turn out like my very first one.  This ‘Enhancement’ went flooey with a capital UCK.

My vision was to be 20/20.  Within one week in one eye my vision was 20/100.  This is what 20/100 looks like:

bottom line...

My other eye was 20/40.  Do you know what life is like without glasses and two different visual acuities ?  Here, let me.


Combine those two photographs.

So now, think of it like this…couldn’t focus correctly and one eye was blurry.  I was having so much fun.  Not.  Typing was hard.  One of my doctors tried to help and suggested some Cheaters from the drug store.  Do you know how hard it is to see the lense number on a pair of glasses when you can’t focus and you’re at the store to buy glasses to bring clarity into your life?  The blind leading the blind, that’s what I looked like.  Grabbing at any pair of glasses just to read the lense number on another pair of glasses and then finding out that what I was looking through wasn’t strong enough?

The blurriness kept increasing.  One of my passions is photography.  Do you think I could even see through the viewfinder?  No.  Having my husband read things to me in the store while buying groceries made me feel like I was 98 years old.  Peering around like Mr. Magoo without his glasses is how I thought of myself.  Squinting became a frozen fixture on my face.

The surgeons were at a loss.  After 15,000 surgeries, they had never seen anything like what was happening to me.  We had to wait and see.  Time crawled by.  I had three prescription eye drops to take four times a day, two of them were steroids.  I couldn’t have another Lasik surgery for six months, I was told.  It takes time to heal this last one.  But they were becoming concerned for the ‘ingrowth’ of epithelial cells growing under the flap they created to fire the laser.  These cells did not belong there at all; in fact, they should have stayed on top of my eye.  But they didn’t…they got under the flap and started creating a nuisance of themselves.

I spoke with my regular eye doctor and he advised, “Lasik surgery three times?  No.”  He’s had this type of surgery himself; he wouldn’t do it three times at all.  And now my surgeons were suggesting it in six months.  Panic set it.  What everyone did agree upon was that the cellular ingrowth needed to be removed.  My doctors were, ‘Meh…not a big deal…no laser involved…just lift the flap, a little flushing…all done”  Sounds easy enough.   They de-brided my eyes (De-bridement:  the cutting away of dead or contaminated tissue or foreign material from a wound to prevent infection).  Let me tell you, that was LOADS O’FUN!  But it’s the post surgery that I don’t like.  I’m not making light of the de-bridement…how many of you want to experience the scrapping of the gel like substance that consists of the outer layer of your eye?  C’mon, raise your hands…

I was made to wear clear plastic patches taped over my eyes for nighttime so that I didn’t itch my eyes during sleep.  I could wear no makeup for a week.  There was room for absolutely no ego or vanity here.

I agreed to the fix.

That was during the first week of July.  Now my vision is 20/20 in my right eye and 20/25-30 ish in my left eye.  That ‘ingrowth’ was what was screwing up my vision.  They are keeping a close ‘eye’ on things with seeing me weekly for a month.


And…thank you Lord.  I can’t tell you the funk I went into thinking that I was losing my vision.  I didn’t share this news with anyone but my family.  And even with that, they would forget I couldn’t see well until I reminded them, ‘Um, I can’t see that…what does it say?’  Taking your sight for granted is an understood life habit.  Lose it or lose portions of it, makes for a frustration and depressing emotional roller coaster.  I will never, EVER, take what I see when I open my eyes for granted again.

The sight of my sleep tousled husband of 33 years.

The look of my grandson as he experiences a garden hose for the first time.

The love on the face of my son as he reaches around to give me a hug goodbye.

These things are precious on their own but combined with the vision they give me, make my life worth living.

Imagine losing your sight.  What would you do?  Close your eyes and continue your usual life doings for ten minutes.



About Fae

Although I have other blogs I do for my grandchildren, I felt it wasn't enough to satisfy my inner author. I needed a grownup blog to share things on or rant about. Purely egocentric. Hope you like it.
This entry was posted in Challenges, Family. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to What is seen and NOT seen, Part Deux.

  1. Felia says:

    I have been leagally blind since second grade (although I do think I was before that; I was just diagnosed then) and I have to say, after years of that, I do not take my vision lightly. Last night, Tyler called and said he had scratched his cornea at work. It is scary when a sense like vision is taken away. And I am proud to say, I can get around the house quite well without glasses. BUT I prefer looking at life WITH my vision!

    PS: I am glad everything worked out and you can see now. 😉

  2. Fannie says:

    Oh Fae, I am so sorry! I had no idea you had gone through that! I wish I had known…if nothing else, I could have consulted with some of my co-workers, especially those in the surgery center, to gather some re-assuring words. I know, that when I hear some of the personal testimonials of patients who have been treated by some of “our” surgeons, it makes me so appreciative of my own eyesight, even if it is a little “age-impaired.” Consider a consultation with one of our eye surgeons if you begin experiencing any other complications. Love you!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s