my cornea is plenty thick


I have a dear friend who got LASIK surgery five years ago, and she is a little outraged at the number of tests my doctors are running on me. Not because she feels like they are wasting my time, but because she feels slighted. “I walked in, they did a test or two, said OK, then sliced my eyeballs open. WTF?”

Mr. Mildly Handsome was replaced by Super Nice Peruvian Doctor. If not for Mr. Super Nice, I don’t know if I could go through with all of it. He’s the director of the eye care center, and he was gracious, and funny, and honest. He did roughly a billion more tests on my eyes, and then pulled me around so I could see the results on his computer screen. I got to see 3-D diagrams of what exactly is wrong with my eyes- the bowing out of my nearsightedness, the anomalies of my astigmatism- it was SO COOL. And it turns out that the thickness of my cornea is on the high side of normal, which is really good.

They do not yet know if I am a candidate for custom LASIK, because results from two different tests weren’t exactly the same, and apparently that means something that I don’t understand. But I am a perfect candidate for regular LASIK, and they’ll be able to tell the day of the surgery which one would be best for me.

Mr. Super Nice answered every one of my questions, but he also made it abundantly clear that the success of the surgery depends on little more than my expectations. I could end up with 20/40 vision. I could end up needing nighttime driving glasses. I could end up needing a second surgery if they heal in the wrong way. (I could also end up blind or losing an eye or two, although that is extremely rare.) Or, I could end up with better than 20/20 vision and not need to wear any sort of corrective anything until I’m in my forties and need reading glasses. (I’m totally okay with that.) There are all sorts of rare and terrifying possible complications, but I don’t want to write about them.

And the surgery itself lasts all of a few seconds- under a minute for each eye. For two or three weeks prior, I’ll be taking supplements, and massaging my eyes (because apparently my tear ducts are a little blocked- not that you’d know that if you spent any time around me), and of course the contacts come out again. And then after the surgery, I keep my eyes shut for the day (and wear funny-looking goggles) and then I wear those goggles to sleep in for a week and for a month, I can’t swim, can’t play contact sports, can’t do anything that might poke my eyeballs. Because although they seal immediately once they replace the top flap, it takes time for that seal to be permanent… and if my eyeballs get poked during that time, I could get an infection, and that would be VERY VERY VERY bad.

Anyway, this is all the roundabout way to say the surgery is scheduled. March 29th. Plenty of time to chicken out, unfortunately, but the doctor that Mr. Super Nice thinks is the perfect one for me is booked until then. The total cost? Just under $4000. Would have been $5000 but I’m joining an alumni association that gives patients 20% off all surgeries.

I’m scared and excited. And funnily enough, now I hate my contacts. My glasses are off, and put away, but now that I’m wearing these little plastic discs in my eyes again I’m miserable. They itch and they feel all suffocaty and stuff gets on them.

Anyway, two weeks before the surgery, I go back in for the same round of tests I had this last time, to make current maps for the surgeon. So until March, no more eyeball updates… other than just chronicling my fears.