Friday, 26 February 2010

Under the laser

I had my Lasik yesterday. I walked up to the busy Belfast main street and sat upstairs and waited to be called for my turn. From the waiting area, I could hear the clicking sound of the laser on the patients before me. I counted the seconds it took, and each one was roughly forty. 

My turn. I lay down, had my eyes cleaned, lasers directed over my head, a suction placed on my right eye, concentrated on the flashing red light even as it turned orange, went grey and then everything disappeared in the blackness. My sight returns and the laser starts to click again and I can smell the burning of my cornea. I counted the seconds, it was less than forty this time. Everything was all repeated on my left eye and afterwards I could see the surgeon smoothing out the flap he’d just replaced and putting drops into my eyes. He rubbed my shoulder and told me I did excellently, and then he was gone.

After the cheery nurse explained all the drops she’d given me in the small baggy, made me a cup of tea and chatted with me for a few minutes she sent me back into the waiting room where this time, I was waiting for Lee to come get me. It was a much better wait even though tears were streaming down my face and my eyes were burning with the fire of ten thousand suns.
I woke up this morning and I could see. I could read the labels on the bottles of lotion on the dressing table and everything else in the bedroom too. It was my first check up appointment this morning and everything is excellent and the optician could barely find where the flap had been created.

I’m not sure why everyone keeps telling me not to rub my eyes. I’m well aware that a flap was made in them, I barely feel comfortable moving my head too quickly incase I dislodge something!




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