the eye

Wasn't sure what it was. Wasn't sure when I noticed it. Finally tried to describe it as a "psychedelic, white, blob thing" on the side of my left eye. You know, like the lava lamps. He said, "sounds like a detached retina to me". Really... The Internet is a great, great thing. After some reading, I made an eye appointment and in one day went from the optometrist, to the ophthalmologist, to the laser surgery chair. Ok, it didn't happen that fast. There was a lot of waiting at every stop. A lot. Not sure what was worse, the laser, or The Injection. No one wants to see a three inch needle coming at their eye, especially when they're not allowed to close it. Then no one wants to nearly faint and then throw up from The Injection either. The doctor told me it means I'm young and healthy. Um, yeah, okay. I could say more about the shot, but it's squeamish and yucky. Of course by the end of the session, my answer was "the laser", because it beat me up for a good couple hours and The Injection was a distant memory. Stick a fork in me, I'm done. Felt like when you have a bad bruise and you keep digging at it with your thumb. Combine that with staring at a flashlight a centimeter away from the bulb for 2 hours and you might get the idea. It wears you down. My helpers were in the hallway waiting for me, watching me walk towards them in a trance with a patch over my eye. It was still numb - my eye and my brain. I went home to my mom and kiddo and was quite pooped. The recovery wasn't horrible. I could see, although my eye often stung and watered, making it hard to do anything. But by that weekend I was up and running again. The right eye got preventative treatment end of that week. No Injection, but plenty of zapping. Only to go to my follow up appointment 3 weeks later and find out my laser-dam wasn't holding up. Off to surgery I go. Next day, I'm under the knife. Although I don't think they cut much. Heck if I know. When they discussed local versus general anesthetic I said "knock me out" - end of discussion. Ten seconds into the hallway and I was out cold. I was supposed to dream about someone feeding me peeled grapes because I was so hungry, but I don't remember dreaming anything at all. Bummer. Another day, another patch. The doctor removed it a few days later. Spent a couple minutes gently cleaning it out; it was glued shut with goop. Ugh. I was tired and nauseated, and stayed that way for days. So much for Thanksgiving... I was never scared. I knew I'd live. I knew worst case if I lost my sight in one eye, I'd still be pretty full-functioning. No cancer. No disease. Relatively little pain. I count my little blessings. But a couple days after the surgery I stopped and took a good look in the mirror. My eye was 100% red and droopy - no white to be found. Some bruising underneath. My eye was totally dilated giving it an eerie, unnatural appearance. My eyelashes were wet and slimy. And they had cut the skin on the eye (did you know you have skin on your eye?) and stitched it back together, leaving it bumpy and rough looking, with a ridge around the iris. I could feel the blood drain away from my face as I started crying. All the stress of the surgeries and the disability and the imposing on my family, and the grotesqueness of it, rushed over me. Wow, I was really going through a crappy experience, wasn't I? Of course I'm fine now. Small aches, but not enough to pop pills. As soon as I get a new prescription for my glasses I should be good as new. And now I get to brag about my first artificial piece. (I got a buckle. Google it...) Shall we cross our fingers for my 3 week follow up?