Yesterday was my one-month anniversary from eye surgery. I can't believe it's only been a month.
I feel like my vision is really good, but I still have trouble focusing at times. I'm not sure if it's related to something or not, or if it's some astigmatism that will need corrective eye wear. It's not really enough distortion to slow me down, but it can be irritating. Like if someone asks me a question that requires me to read something far away and no matter how much I squint at it, I cannot make out the word(s). I do have quite a few floaters, too, which make focusing a bit difficult as well. I'm not sure what to do about that. There isn't a cure for floaters, although I read yesterday that they tend to dissipate after a while. I can only hope, right?
It hasn't kept me from reading books either, although I find the transition from reading text in front of me to focusing further away takes longer than I remember it did prior to the surgery. I think I've read three books in the last two weeks, which has been wonderful, as I hadn't read a book from late December through early March. The latest one, I finished last night: Cry, the Beloved Country. I had a feeling that I'd read it before, but when I reached the end, I knew I hadn't. It's such a beautiful story of love, redemption, hope, and mercy, even while dealing with death, corruption, hate, and segregation. I may put it on my list of favorite books. Paton is an excellent story-weaver, and upon reading the introduction which included a little bit of a speech he gave about the book, I can see his heart for South Africa and Africa as a whole throughout the novel. It is heart-breaking and yet hopeful.
I keep a running tab on all books that I've read, probably since 2006 or 2007. The latest additions (and near future ones, as well) are from a list of 40 classic novels that I found online. While I had read a sixteen already, I've added three in the last two weeks. The Catcher in the Rye (which I did not enjoy), The Call of the Wild (which I loved), and Cry, the Beloved Country. Next up I have Zora Neale Hurston's classic Their Eyes Were Watching God. A friend of mine did her senior English paper on this book, and I've wanted to read it since (that's 5 years, folks). I think I'll start today.
You'll remember, if you followed my post-surgery updates, that I had a scare with rubbing my eye only a week after the procedure. Well, I did it again last night, only I didn't freak out this time. It just irritated me that I did it. I've had no issue with this since I quit wearing the goggles to bed about a week ago. I don't know if I was subconsciously commemorating the anniversary of my surgery or what. But I think I'll be okay this time.
Next week I have my one-month appointment. Hoping for great news.
Showing posts with label surgery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label surgery. Show all posts
19 March 2010
27 February 2010
My Eyes...A Saga. Part 3.
Recovery Update.
The check-up went very well. My eyes are healing as everyone hoped, and all restrictions have been lifted. I can lift weights again, do cardio. I can bend over to tie my shoes. I can shower with full water pressure and without fearing the droplets getting in my eyes. I can wash my face properly (what a relief; it's been So nasty greasy). The doctor indicated I don't have to wear my sleeping goggles anymore (I was almost disappointed), which means I can also sleep on one pillow instead of many, which has been killing my back. Maybe I can sleep on my side now, too. What joy!
I'm off the antibiotic eye drop, and weaning myself off the steroid one. I have an added drop to help with healing, and continue with the artificial tears and oral supplement to help produce tears. All of this is very easy, though, and works into my day seamlessly.
The only slightly uncomfortable part of my visit was the stitches removal. The whole idea of how it would be done made me anxious for a few days preceding the appointment. But, as usual, it ended up not being as terrifying as I'd anticipated. After numbing my eye with drops (this is the method now, no more needles in the eye to numb it...that's old school), she had an assistant hold open one eye, and using a highly powered magnifying glass, she used a tool to break the "thread" (I don't know what substance it really is). I heard the *ping* of the break. Then she used another, tweezer-like tool to pull it out. That pull was the weirdest thing I've ever experienced. Weirder than having my hand stitches cut out, weirder than the actual eye surgery. It made my eye RUN, but didn't hurt one ounce. The left eye stitch had actually worked itself loose, which is why my vision has been better at this stage in the recovery. It was an easy removal, and I felt even less than I'd felt with the right eye.
I celebrated my release from all restrictions by working out. I was a little dizzy at first, but managed to get in 2.5 miles of good cardio. Felt great.
The doctor herself seemed thrilled with my recovery and how well I'm seeing. My left eye is nearly at 20/15. My right eye has some catching up to do in the next few weeks, but they fully believe it will. And that, my friends, is a miracle.
I had a scare last night at about 3am. In my sleep, as I dreamt about a Chicago outing with Elaine and her parents, I woke up rubbing my eye. This is BAD. I mean, the worst possible thing I could do. And, as none of us is rational in the middle of the night, I nearly lost my mind in worry. I almost called the on-call doctor with PVG to ask if I needed to come in. Kyle encouraged me to relax and simply put my goggles back on. I slept little for the remainder of the night, imagining the phone conversation and then needing to set up alternative work situations (as I'm on duty all day Saturday).
I even woke up once with my eye hurting. After investigating, I found an eyelash that I'm sure I rubbed INTO my eye during the fateful incident.
When I finally got up to get ready for work, I realized I could see as well, if not better, than yesterday. That set my mind at partial ease. I will be wearing my goggles at night at least until my next appointment in a month. I have been great about keeping my hands away while I'm awake, but who can control themselves while sleeping? I have always loved rubbing my eyes and I know that it's not an easy habit to break. I can't take any chances. So, a very scary night following my good report with the doctor.
Please continue to pray for healing, that I won't mess with my eyes - rubbing them or putting pressure on them.
Here's a Saturday cheers! to truly seeing, a luxury I never thought possible for me. To something I've never been able to take for granted, and hopefully never will now that I have it.
The check-up went very well. My eyes are healing as everyone hoped, and all restrictions have been lifted. I can lift weights again, do cardio. I can bend over to tie my shoes. I can shower with full water pressure and without fearing the droplets getting in my eyes. I can wash my face properly (what a relief; it's been So nasty greasy). The doctor indicated I don't have to wear my sleeping goggles anymore (I was almost disappointed), which means I can also sleep on one pillow instead of many, which has been killing my back. Maybe I can sleep on my side now, too. What joy!
I'm off the antibiotic eye drop, and weaning myself off the steroid one. I have an added drop to help with healing, and continue with the artificial tears and oral supplement to help produce tears. All of this is very easy, though, and works into my day seamlessly.
The only slightly uncomfortable part of my visit was the stitches removal. The whole idea of how it would be done made me anxious for a few days preceding the appointment. But, as usual, it ended up not being as terrifying as I'd anticipated. After numbing my eye with drops (this is the method now, no more needles in the eye to numb it...that's old school), she had an assistant hold open one eye, and using a highly powered magnifying glass, she used a tool to break the "thread" (I don't know what substance it really is). I heard the *ping* of the break. Then she used another, tweezer-like tool to pull it out. That pull was the weirdest thing I've ever experienced. Weirder than having my hand stitches cut out, weirder than the actual eye surgery. It made my eye RUN, but didn't hurt one ounce. The left eye stitch had actually worked itself loose, which is why my vision has been better at this stage in the recovery. It was an easy removal, and I felt even less than I'd felt with the right eye.
I celebrated my release from all restrictions by working out. I was a little dizzy at first, but managed to get in 2.5 miles of good cardio. Felt great.
The doctor herself seemed thrilled with my recovery and how well I'm seeing. My left eye is nearly at 20/15. My right eye has some catching up to do in the next few weeks, but they fully believe it will. And that, my friends, is a miracle.
I had a scare last night at about 3am. In my sleep, as I dreamt about a Chicago outing with Elaine and her parents, I woke up rubbing my eye. This is BAD. I mean, the worst possible thing I could do. And, as none of us is rational in the middle of the night, I nearly lost my mind in worry. I almost called the on-call doctor with PVG to ask if I needed to come in. Kyle encouraged me to relax and simply put my goggles back on. I slept little for the remainder of the night, imagining the phone conversation and then needing to set up alternative work situations (as I'm on duty all day Saturday).
I even woke up once with my eye hurting. After investigating, I found an eyelash that I'm sure I rubbed INTO my eye during the fateful incident.
When I finally got up to get ready for work, I realized I could see as well, if not better, than yesterday. That set my mind at partial ease. I will be wearing my goggles at night at least until my next appointment in a month. I have been great about keeping my hands away while I'm awake, but who can control themselves while sleeping? I have always loved rubbing my eyes and I know that it's not an easy habit to break. I can't take any chances. So, a very scary night following my good report with the doctor.
Please continue to pray for healing, that I won't mess with my eyes - rubbing them or putting pressure on them.
Here's a Saturday cheers! to truly seeing, a luxury I never thought possible for me. To something I've never been able to take for granted, and hopefully never will now that I have it.
Pictures of the Surgified Lana: Start to Finish
We aren't a very picture-happy family, but Kyle did manage to capture a few pictures of me from pre-surgery through post-op recovery. Enjoy!
Obviously I'm so excited. Here we are in the waiting room at 7am, Thursday, Feb. 18th.
I do love these glasses, but I was happy to be rid of them, too.
After my surgery, they wheeled me out where Kyle found me.
My eyes did NOT want to open, so they are closed here,
though you can't tell because of
the massively effective BluBlocker-esque shades they gave me.
Awesome.
At home in my new bed-away-from-my-bed, the recliner. Thanks to Mom & Dad for giving that to us over the summer.
Came in very handy this week.
Yes, I look like a demon b/c my eyes are dilated with intense drops that lasted 48 hours or more. Opening the eyes hurt, again. I think you can see the strain on my face.
First night they gave me these "eye shields" to use.
You actually have to tape them to your face, which is really gross.
But they were comfortable, if you can imagine that.
At my appointment the day after surgery, the doctor gave me these goggles for sleeping.
She is not a fan of the eye shields
and indicated she prefers to give ICL patients the LASIK goggles
for easy sleeping and lack of taping things to your face.
While I do wear them to sleep, I also wear them to watch movies.
Cuts down on the glare, which I'm still getting accustomed to.
I also got to WOW some visitors on Saturday with them.
Leslie, Taylor, Gracie and Nathan stopped by to check in on the invalid.
It was fun to see them (pun intended).
This is how you will typically find us in the evenings and on the weekends:
lounging on the couch, watching Lost or a movie, me in goggles.
I've thoroughly enjoyed the week of required rest.
Obviously I'm so excited. Here we are in the waiting room at 7am, Thursday, Feb. 18th.I do love these glasses, but I was happy to be rid of them, too.
After my surgery, they wheeled me out where Kyle found me.My eyes did NOT want to open, so they are closed here,
though you can't tell because of
the massively effective BluBlocker-esque shades they gave me.
Awesome.
At home in my new bed-away-from-my-bed, the recliner. Thanks to Mom & Dad for giving that to us over the summer.Came in very handy this week.
Yes, I look like a demon b/c my eyes are dilated with intense drops that lasted 48 hours or more. Opening the eyes hurt, again. I think you can see the strain on my face.
First night they gave me these "eye shields" to use.You actually have to tape them to your face, which is really gross.
But they were comfortable, if you can imagine that.
At my appointment the day after surgery, the doctor gave me these goggles for sleeping.She is not a fan of the eye shields
and indicated she prefers to give ICL patients the LASIK goggles
for easy sleeping and lack of taping things to your face.
While I do wear them to sleep, I also wear them to watch movies.
Cuts down on the glare, which I'm still getting accustomed to.
I also got to WOW some visitors on Saturday with them.
Leslie, Taylor, Gracie and Nathan stopped by to check in on the invalid.
It was fun to see them (pun intended).
This is how you will typically find us in the evenings and on the weekends:lounging on the couch, watching Lost or a movie, me in goggles.
I've thoroughly enjoyed the week of required rest.
25 February 2010
My Eyes...A Saga. Part 2.
Oddly enough, my eyes never hurt, themselves. The drops we had to get felt like millions of tiny knives stabbing my eyelids for the first day (multiple times a day). By day 2, that feeling was gone.
The recliner became my new best friend. I laid there for three days straight, then moved to the couch, and finally to my bed, though propped up on pillows. The dilation of my eyes lasted at least 48 hours, well past my next-day check up. So glaring and light caused a dull ache in my head for as long.
The first night I had eye shields to tape to my face to keep my from touching my eyes in my sleep. At the appointment the next day, they gave me goggles, which were WAY more cool! I still wear them to sleep (as prescribed by the Dr.) and sometimes to watch TV to cut the glare.
Although not planned, I did receive a suture on each incision (one per eye). These will be removed at my one-week check up. This can also cause some added vision problems while they are in place, which I have experienced. My eye pressure has remained steady and in a good place. Everything feels good, although since returning to work, I've gotten some dry eye issues. I use drops constantly, and still have two prescribed drops that are steroids and antibiotic.
My restrictions for this week have been this:
My vision is decent. Focusing on specific tiny details and reading continue to prove difficult, but I've been told that the vision will continue to improve and work itself out for up to 30 days. It's hard to do my job, which has caused me to be fairly unproductive this week. But I did teach two research sessions with two different classes, as well as work on a project that I've started and am hoping to finish soon.
I'm excited to get my stitches out tomorrow. That will hopefully help with some of the focusing issues, and I should find out if I will need glasses. While I do hope, desperately almost, that I won't need them for at least a year, I have to be realistic. I was on the upper end of the prescription end for people to get this surgery. Which means that risks for complications, as well as for less than 20/20 vision are much greater. I do, however, still believe in miracles. Someday, I'll need reading glasses, and I'm hoping that until then, I will see only with these implanted lenses. Here's to believing it's possible!
I will have to post some pictures of the pre-op excitement, the post-op dilated crazy look, the eye shields, the goggles, etc. I refrained from taking pictures of my bloody left eye. The upper portion of the white area, above and touching my iris, were BLOOD red. It's been lessening every day, and my boss now says he can't even see it when talking with me. So that's good. I was worried about making people cry when I looked at them at work.
Thank you to all who supported us in prayers and those of you who supported us financially. We could NOT have done it without you. I will report in tomorrow or this weekend about what the Dr.s say in my one-week check up.
The recliner became my new best friend. I laid there for three days straight, then moved to the couch, and finally to my bed, though propped up on pillows. The dilation of my eyes lasted at least 48 hours, well past my next-day check up. So glaring and light caused a dull ache in my head for as long.
The first night I had eye shields to tape to my face to keep my from touching my eyes in my sleep. At the appointment the next day, they gave me goggles, which were WAY more cool! I still wear them to sleep (as prescribed by the Dr.) and sometimes to watch TV to cut the glare.
Although not planned, I did receive a suture on each incision (one per eye). These will be removed at my one-week check up. This can also cause some added vision problems while they are in place, which I have experienced. My eye pressure has remained steady and in a good place. Everything feels good, although since returning to work, I've gotten some dry eye issues. I use drops constantly, and still have two prescribed drops that are steroids and antibiotic.
My restrictions for this week have been this:
- No lifting more than 20 lbs.
- No bending with head below waist (which I translated to no bending at all b/c it makes my head swim).
- Sleep propped up on pillows (super uncomfortable and thus not sleeping well).
- No water in eyes (which has resulted in less than clean hair, although I DO shower daily...very carefully).
- No strenuous activity.
My vision is decent. Focusing on specific tiny details and reading continue to prove difficult, but I've been told that the vision will continue to improve and work itself out for up to 30 days. It's hard to do my job, which has caused me to be fairly unproductive this week. But I did teach two research sessions with two different classes, as well as work on a project that I've started and am hoping to finish soon.
I'm excited to get my stitches out tomorrow. That will hopefully help with some of the focusing issues, and I should find out if I will need glasses. While I do hope, desperately almost, that I won't need them for at least a year, I have to be realistic. I was on the upper end of the prescription end for people to get this surgery. Which means that risks for complications, as well as for less than 20/20 vision are much greater. I do, however, still believe in miracles. Someday, I'll need reading glasses, and I'm hoping that until then, I will see only with these implanted lenses. Here's to believing it's possible!
I will have to post some pictures of the pre-op excitement, the post-op dilated crazy look, the eye shields, the goggles, etc. I refrained from taking pictures of my bloody left eye. The upper portion of the white area, above and touching my iris, were BLOOD red. It's been lessening every day, and my boss now says he can't even see it when talking with me. So that's good. I was worried about making people cry when I looked at them at work.
Thank you to all who supported us in prayers and those of you who supported us financially. We could NOT have done it without you. I will report in tomorrow or this weekend about what the Dr.s say in my one-week check up.
My Eyes...A Saga. Part 1.
It's been a week, and I know I should update everyone (whoever it is that reads this blog).
I'm not even sure where to start. I didn't sleep much the week leading up to the surgery. And I slept 30 minutes total post-operatively. I was willing myself to see, but everything was blurry and light hurt my head and moving much made me dizzy. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The nurse who prepped me for surgery graduated from IWU. She was very sweet, and I realized how important it is for nurses in a surgery center to have a certain caring, gentle demeanor. I found out, yet again, that I have terrible hand veins for placing IVs, so my elbow one had to do, meaning it would be potentially awkward for the surgeon to work around that. I had dilating drops in my eyes, and was left to lay there for at least an hour, maybe more, prior to entering the surgery room. Kyle came back with me, after a while, and waited. I was so very relaxed. No drugs at that point and I was almost asleep. I think it was due to the fact I hadn't slept well in days and I had to keep my eyes shut, despite all that was going on around me.
All the patients were in one big room, separated by curtains. The man on my left, who was next to the door into the surgery area, was snoring softly when I got there. The woman on my right had a low, scratchy voice. Kyle confirmed when he arrived that I was the youngest by 40 to 50 years. Dr. Price specialized in cornea transplants and does quite a few cataract removals, too. So that definitely plays to a certain demographic. There were only two ICL (Implanted collamer lens) patients that day. Myself and another young-ish woman. I never saw her, but heard her arrive shortly before I was wheeled away for surgery.
I wasn't too anxious as I waited because everyone had assured me that the sedative they were to give me would make me not care what they were doing to my eyes. My coworker, L., who's had this type of surgery, indicated that I shouldn't be alarmed if my vision went out in the eye they were working on for a few seconds. That is normal, she said. So I was prepared for that, as well. I was very nearly asleep when they came in and said, alright, here we go....and I was off.
Then it was all bright lights and poking and prodding. An automatic blood pressure band was tightened around my right arm while another nurse hooked up heart monitors in three places. They began the drip of sedative into my IV, while painting something cold and sticky across my eyes and eyebrows and nose bridge.
It seemed to be a bit of time when the Dr. came in and said they were about to get started. They slammed something big and plastic, although sticky in places, across my face and peeled back one eye hole, which they quickly filled with utensils and tools. They propped my eye open with a clamp and that's when I started freaking out.
I won't give all the details I remember because I don't want to remember is and I'm hoping given enough time it will all disappear. But, let me just say the "happy juice" wasn't strong enough and while the numbing drops worked in my eyes, I knew what was going on. I was gripping the sheet in a ball with my right hand and the side of the bed with my left. My back was arching against what they were doing and my breath -- which was all very shallow and contained underneath this plastic covering on my face -- was panicked. A few imes I wimpered, and while I don't really know why, I do remember this exchange (it occured once with each eye).
Lana: wimper Dr.: Can you feel that? Are you ok?
Lana: Well, it doesn't feel good.
Anesth: I'll give her some more medicine.
When they moved around to eye #2, I asked aloud: "Should I be tearing a hole in this sheet?" I held it up for all to see how hard I'd gripped it into a wrinkled mess.
"No, you don't need to do that. Just relax."
"I CAN'T."
Anesth.: I'll give her some more medicine.
I so wanted them to stop, that I fought very hard against them clamping open eye #2. In my nearly hysterical, dazed state, I heard the Doc's stearn warning.
"Lana, you have to relax and let us get this on your eye. If we can't get it positioned properly, we'll have to trim your eyelashes. And no one wants trimmed eyelashes."
My retort remained silent as I focused all my energy on not fighting. But it would have been this, "Of course, and especially not when you already have stubby eyelashes."
I survived it all. I may have passed out from sheer exhaustion after they finished eye #2 . I didn't want to ever open my eyes. They'd squeezed some ointment (least favorite word) into my eyes to aid the healing. Kyle was waiting for me as I came out and asked if I could open my eyes. I tried, and said I could see his bushy hair. He'd gone at least 4 weeks without a hair cut. At least I kept my sense of humor!
I don't know how long I waited after coming out, but it didn't feel like long. They gave me some fancy-schmancy BluBlocker-type sunshields to wear, checked my eye pressure, and we left. I think it was around noon, and we'd arrived at 7am. I got very car sick on the way home, though, because my eyes had to be shut. Ugh. If only we didn't live so far away.
I'm not even sure where to start. I didn't sleep much the week leading up to the surgery. And I slept 30 minutes total post-operatively. I was willing myself to see, but everything was blurry and light hurt my head and moving much made me dizzy. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The nurse who prepped me for surgery graduated from IWU. She was very sweet, and I realized how important it is for nurses in a surgery center to have a certain caring, gentle demeanor. I found out, yet again, that I have terrible hand veins for placing IVs, so my elbow one had to do, meaning it would be potentially awkward for the surgeon to work around that. I had dilating drops in my eyes, and was left to lay there for at least an hour, maybe more, prior to entering the surgery room. Kyle came back with me, after a while, and waited. I was so very relaxed. No drugs at that point and I was almost asleep. I think it was due to the fact I hadn't slept well in days and I had to keep my eyes shut, despite all that was going on around me.
All the patients were in one big room, separated by curtains. The man on my left, who was next to the door into the surgery area, was snoring softly when I got there. The woman on my right had a low, scratchy voice. Kyle confirmed when he arrived that I was the youngest by 40 to 50 years. Dr. Price specialized in cornea transplants and does quite a few cataract removals, too. So that definitely plays to a certain demographic. There were only two ICL (Implanted collamer lens) patients that day. Myself and another young-ish woman. I never saw her, but heard her arrive shortly before I was wheeled away for surgery.
I wasn't too anxious as I waited because everyone had assured me that the sedative they were to give me would make me not care what they were doing to my eyes. My coworker, L., who's had this type of surgery, indicated that I shouldn't be alarmed if my vision went out in the eye they were working on for a few seconds. That is normal, she said. So I was prepared for that, as well. I was very nearly asleep when they came in and said, alright, here we go....and I was off.
Then it was all bright lights and poking and prodding. An automatic blood pressure band was tightened around my right arm while another nurse hooked up heart monitors in three places. They began the drip of sedative into my IV, while painting something cold and sticky across my eyes and eyebrows and nose bridge.
It seemed to be a bit of time when the Dr. came in and said they were about to get started. They slammed something big and plastic, although sticky in places, across my face and peeled back one eye hole, which they quickly filled with utensils and tools. They propped my eye open with a clamp and that's when I started freaking out.
I won't give all the details I remember because I don't want to remember is and I'm hoping given enough time it will all disappear. But, let me just say the "happy juice" wasn't strong enough and while the numbing drops worked in my eyes, I knew what was going on. I was gripping the sheet in a ball with my right hand and the side of the bed with my left. My back was arching against what they were doing and my breath -- which was all very shallow and contained underneath this plastic covering on my face -- was panicked. A few imes I wimpered, and while I don't really know why, I do remember this exchange (it occured once with each eye).
Lana: wimper Dr.: Can you feel that? Are you ok?
Lana: Well, it doesn't feel good.
Anesth: I'll give her some more medicine.
When they moved around to eye #2, I asked aloud: "Should I be tearing a hole in this sheet?" I held it up for all to see how hard I'd gripped it into a wrinkled mess.
"No, you don't need to do that. Just relax."
"I CAN'T."
Anesth.: I'll give her some more medicine.
I so wanted them to stop, that I fought very hard against them clamping open eye #2. In my nearly hysterical, dazed state, I heard the Doc's stearn warning.
"Lana, you have to relax and let us get this on your eye. If we can't get it positioned properly, we'll have to trim your eyelashes. And no one wants trimmed eyelashes."
My retort remained silent as I focused all my energy on not fighting. But it would have been this, "Of course, and especially not when you already have stubby eyelashes."
I survived it all. I may have passed out from sheer exhaustion after they finished eye #2 . I didn't want to ever open my eyes. They'd squeezed some ointment (least favorite word) into my eyes to aid the healing. Kyle was waiting for me as I came out and asked if I could open my eyes. I tried, and said I could see his bushy hair. He'd gone at least 4 weeks without a hair cut. At least I kept my sense of humor!
I don't know how long I waited after coming out, but it didn't feel like long. They gave me some fancy-schmancy BluBlocker-type sunshields to wear, checked my eye pressure, and we left. I think it was around noon, and we'd arrived at 7am. I got very car sick on the way home, though, because my eyes had to be shut. Ugh. If only we didn't live so far away.
28 January 2010
21 days...
It's going to happen. Today they told me my dream can come true.
In 21 days, I will see for the first time since I was 6 or 7 years old.
Praise Jesus!
In 21 days, I will see for the first time since I was 6 or 7 years old.
Praise Jesus!
02 July 2009
Hope...
Hope: to not give in to despair and cling to a dream
Since I was probably 12 years old, I have had one particular dream that has gotten me through a lot of discouraging times.
You see, I have terrible vision. I got glasses for the first time in second grade and my eyes continued progressing into myopia at such a steep rate that by the next year I had hard contacts. The goal was to allow the hard contacts to prevent such quick myopic transitions. If it worked, it was hard to tell. Today, my vision is a -13.5 in one eye and -11.5 in the other, both with increasing astigmatism. That makes me substantially more legally blind than most. My eye Dr. used to try to encourage me by saying that contacts can correct up to -20, but that isn't so encouraging anymore, considering my eyes just changed a whole number in one year.
The dream, a gift really, to a visually impaired little girl, was given to me by my eye Dr. "You can have LASIK. It can fix your vision, even vision as bad as yours." At the time, my vision was bad, but not terrible. I was thrilled and began saving for this procedure from that day on.
Well, things got in the way, of course. College and grad school. I had to use money for those things. But, after I got my first real job, I continued building my savings for one ultimate purpose--not a house, not a vacation, but to SEE. To finally see the clock when I wake up, or through the window, or, more recently, the face of my husband in the morning.
A few years ago, I had my first consultation. I knew I couldn't get the consult without having the money in hand to continue with the surgery. But I received devastating news that day. My vision was too advanced and my corneas too thin for the surgery. "You are not a good candidate for LASIK," he told me. I thought I would faint.
I cried all the way home. I cried all day. It was the death of a dream. I know this may seem dramatic, but I haven't been able to see since I was 7. That'll be 20 years this September.
In a cruel twist of fate, Kyle, the man I married, had bad vision too. But he was able to have LASIK and has been known to make comments about how life-changing it has been for him. Sometimes just knowing that is so frustrating. My dream didn't seem insurmountable, originally, and yet now...
The only possibility of corrected vision, for me, is a more intensive surgery--the implantation of a contact lens. Sounds insane, but could be awesome. Kyle has encouraged me to pursue it, and so after two years of nursing my heartbreak at the death of my dream, there is a little hope. They told me two years ago the surgery would cost $10,000, money that I did NOT have in hand. But the information I received today says it is only $7,000 (for both eyes).
There are two different types of ICL (implantable contact lens) surgeries. One puts the lens between your cornea and iris. This is a rigid lens that can be seen from the outside, if you look hard enough. The other surgery puts the lens behind your iris and the lens is more flexible and not detectable, except during an eye exam when they look back into your eye with the bright and painful yellow-blue light.
Whereas LASIK is a very quick procedure and recovery can be nearly instantaneous, the implanted lens, as you can imagine, takes more time to complete and recover from. However, I have a first-hand success story from which to glean information. A woman I work with had this surgery done several years ago, and, in her words, "it has changed my life".
I needed this hope to continue, since sight is such a precious gift. I have prayed since I was young for a day when I can wake up and see without glasses or contacts. Maybe in a few years, maybe in a decade, but I once again believe it could happen.
I think I'll start saving up my pennies again.
Since I was probably 12 years old, I have had one particular dream that has gotten me through a lot of discouraging times.
You see, I have terrible vision. I got glasses for the first time in second grade and my eyes continued progressing into myopia at such a steep rate that by the next year I had hard contacts. The goal was to allow the hard contacts to prevent such quick myopic transitions. If it worked, it was hard to tell. Today, my vision is a -13.5 in one eye and -11.5 in the other, both with increasing astigmatism. That makes me substantially more legally blind than most. My eye Dr. used to try to encourage me by saying that contacts can correct up to -20, but that isn't so encouraging anymore, considering my eyes just changed a whole number in one year.
The dream, a gift really, to a visually impaired little girl, was given to me by my eye Dr. "You can have LASIK. It can fix your vision, even vision as bad as yours." At the time, my vision was bad, but not terrible. I was thrilled and began saving for this procedure from that day on.
Well, things got in the way, of course. College and grad school. I had to use money for those things. But, after I got my first real job, I continued building my savings for one ultimate purpose--not a house, not a vacation, but to SEE. To finally see the clock when I wake up, or through the window, or, more recently, the face of my husband in the morning.
A few years ago, I had my first consultation. I knew I couldn't get the consult without having the money in hand to continue with the surgery. But I received devastating news that day. My vision was too advanced and my corneas too thin for the surgery. "You are not a good candidate for LASIK," he told me. I thought I would faint.
I cried all the way home. I cried all day. It was the death of a dream. I know this may seem dramatic, but I haven't been able to see since I was 7. That'll be 20 years this September.
In a cruel twist of fate, Kyle, the man I married, had bad vision too. But he was able to have LASIK and has been known to make comments about how life-changing it has been for him. Sometimes just knowing that is so frustrating. My dream didn't seem insurmountable, originally, and yet now...
The only possibility of corrected vision, for me, is a more intensive surgery--the implantation of a contact lens. Sounds insane, but could be awesome. Kyle has encouraged me to pursue it, and so after two years of nursing my heartbreak at the death of my dream, there is a little hope. They told me two years ago the surgery would cost $10,000, money that I did NOT have in hand. But the information I received today says it is only $7,000 (for both eyes).
There are two different types of ICL (implantable contact lens) surgeries. One puts the lens between your cornea and iris. This is a rigid lens that can be seen from the outside, if you look hard enough. The other surgery puts the lens behind your iris and the lens is more flexible and not detectable, except during an eye exam when they look back into your eye with the bright and painful yellow-blue light.
Whereas LASIK is a very quick procedure and recovery can be nearly instantaneous, the implanted lens, as you can imagine, takes more time to complete and recover from. However, I have a first-hand success story from which to glean information. A woman I work with had this surgery done several years ago, and, in her words, "it has changed my life".
I needed this hope to continue, since sight is such a precious gift. I have prayed since I was young for a day when I can wake up and see without glasses or contacts. Maybe in a few years, maybe in a decade, but I once again believe it could happen.
I think I'll start saving up my pennies again.
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