20/20 Hindsight: A Review on LASIK Eye Surgery
TD;DS (Too lazy didn’t see) my LASIK surgery went well but…
But nothing. Everything went well and according to plan.
I came in for a consultation in August. They tested my eyes to see if I was a good candidate, meaning they were checking my overall eye health and if my cornea was thick enough to cut into to perform the procedure. It was and from there we scheduled my surgery for mid-December. They gave me a bottle of fish oil pills and gave me a checklist of eye drops I would need to take before and after my procedure. A couple trips to the pharmacy and just like that I’m ready to go.
With any surgery or medical procedure, it can feel a little like riding a rollercoaster. You know that it’s safe, you’ve seen people ride the rollercoaster, get off smiling and saying how it went great. But still, you can’t help yourself and think, “Well, that’s great for them. But what if I’m the exception?”
You quickly start to spiral and think about what your life would like if LASIK didn’t go well. How you literally wouldn’t be able to see the person you’ve been seeing in an on again, off again relationship. How they would leave you because now you’re the idiot who signed up and paid $5,150 to be blinded by a group of strangers via a light show. In your head, you’re now pissed at yourself for having to learn braille and how hard it’s going to be to find where the toilet paper is and how stupid you’ll look because you’ll be committing a egregious amount of fashion faux pas because you wore the wrong shirt with the wrong pants. You’ll start hating yourself because you’ve now robbed your retired parents of their golden years. Because instead of traveling the world and using those retirement funds they’ve worked so hard for, they now must take care of your newly blind ass until you get a better sense of how to be blind.
In your head, you’re already mourning the loss of your vision. In fact, it seems like your thoughts are coming to fruition and your vision’s already giving out. Oh my goodness, how is it already late November and you’ve somehow contracted a lingering dry cough that won’t quit no matter how much Robotussin you’ve thrown at it. They don’t put you under general anesthesia, during your consultation, the nurse said they’ll apply local anesthesia to your eyes and you’ll be awake during the whole procedure. You feel the worms start crawling out of the metaphorical can in your head. What if you cough during the procedure? Does the laser automatically stop tesla-style if you make a sudden movement? What happens if I have to cough and blink? Is the laser going to singe my eyelid?! Why is this happening to me? Why now?
What if there’s a blackout? What if my surgeon goes out for a drink before or is going through a nasty divorce? What if something happens outside of my control and now I’m freaking blind because of it. What did I do to deserve this fate?!? Why did I even sign up for this in the first place? My prescription isn’t even that strong. I’m just -1.00 in both eyes with some astigmatism. I don’t even need LASIK that bad. I just didn’t want to wear contacts anymore, but now contacts and glasses don’t sound so bad… I just don’t want to be blind and for my life to change forever.
On Thursday December 24th, I had my procedure. They checked my eyes, sat me down in comfy recliner chairs in this nook playing Home Alone. They offered me snacks and even gave me a lil piece of Xanax to nibble on. I placed a hair net on my head and coverings on my shoes. I stopped watching Home Alone at the part where Kevin’s mom gets offered to ride with John Candy’s polka band and walked into the operating room. I didn’t cough, the power didn’t go out, my surgeon was friendly and seemed to have his marital affairs in order. I was asked to look up, look down, and look in the general direction of a light. It was more like a dentist appointment in the sense I was having a full on conversation about how my job is going and my plans for the holidays while my surgeon and his team were cutting open my cornea and shooting lasers into my eyes.
Fifteen minutes pass by from the time I walk into the operating room, Home Alone is still playing on the TV nearby. I can see it now… this time tack-sharp and clearly with my new eyes. I laugh in my head which translates to a smile.
The worst part about LASIK is thinking about how it’ll change your life forever. The best part about LASIK is how it makes you realize how wrong you were.
5 out of 5 xanaxs.
by
Nate Velasco
JAN 2024
