Seeing in a Mirror Dimly

I had Lasik surgery a little over a week ago. It was something that I had thought about but something, to be honest, that I never thought that I would actually do. Here were some of the things that were working against it:

1. I hate going to doctors (nothing personal).
2. I don't like the word "surgery."
3. I don't mind wearing glasses. I have worn them most of my life.
4. I hate the thought of someone operating on my eyeballs. How can you close your eyes during that?!
5. I am cheap and don't like spending money. 

So how did I ever decide to do it? Well, the time had come for bifocals and I simply had to revisit my options. My wife had Lasik done three years ago and has loved it. I had money available in a health savings account (an account I will probably lose due to an Obamacare insurance cancellation…but that's another story). And I was tired of not being able to see when I swim or take off my glasses (I can't see that big ol' E on the eye chart). So I took the plunge and had an initial evaluation.

The evaluation was pleasant and answered most of my questions…though I wasn't thrilled about the rare (but still possible) complications. I am a worst case scenario kind of person so I simply had to move past that. I received a sheet of possible surgery dates and identified one that would work well with my schedule. I tentatively scheduled a surgery time on that day and that got the ball rolling. Once it started rolling, I just didn't have enough of a legitimate reason to stop it. 

I researched as much as I could on Lasik. Yes, Dr. Oz isn't too wild about it but everyone else seemed to give it glowing reviews, particularly those I knew who had had it done. I also talked to an eye doctor friend of mine in NJ (forgive me for my doctor comment above) and he reassured me about all the things that I was concerned about.

Once I got past that obstacle, I started reading up on the surgery itself. I wanted to know what was going to happen during the procedure. This was where things started getting dicey.

I asked my wife what the surgery was like for her. She said they gave her a valium and she didn't remember a thing about it. Wow, I figured that valium must be a pretty effective relaxant and that it would help me deal with the fact that a giant machine was approaching my eye ball to slice it open.

No worries.

The day of my surgery arrived and I was fairly nervous…but not so bad as to want to run away screaming down the road. I went to the surgery center and checked in. They gave me that magical valium pill and I sat back waiting to enter a world of plush meadows, fluttering butterflies, and sweet music before my eye ball was gently fileted and delicately corrected with dancing beams of light.

About an hour later, they began the pre-surgery tests and preparation. I felt a little loopy but I wasn't seeing any butterflies yet…though I still felt a few in my stomach. Finally I entered the laser room.

The moment had arrived.

I laid down on a padded table and they proceeded to pack some cushions around my head to keep it steady. They gave me a stuffed skunk to hold against my chest during the surgery. Not sure of the significance of the skunk but I graciously took it since my dream of being in the plush meadows had not materialized yet. 

My right eye was taped open and a cup was put over it. A little suction was applied to pull my eye upward. Then before I could contemplate the thought of my eyeball popping out of my skull, I was slid under a machine and a round metal contraption started descending toward my eye. Everything went black…and I felt nothing but some pressure…but I knew that my eye was being sliced by a laser. But, again, before I could contemplate that too much, I was immediately rotated under another machine in which a yellow laser light started making clicking noises. This lasted for about 20 seconds and then the doctor took some kind of instrument and folded the flap of my eye back over and started smoothing it out. I felt like I had my eye pressed against a window while someone proceeded to clean the outside of it. It was a weird feeling. I knew he was working on my eye but it seemed like I was watching it from far away since I didn't physically feel anything. 

The right eye was done. Now it was time for the left eye. I knew the drill…which made it worse because now I had some time to think about it. I bent one of my legs to get more comfortable…or maybe just to squirm a little bit…and they quickly told me to put my leg down and relax. I squeezed that little skunk like an old teddy bear as they repeated the process.

Tape. Suction. Slice. Light. Flap. Done. 

I got up and moved into another dim lit room. I could see well enough to text my wife and let her know that the procedure was done. While I waited for the doctor, I watched as the next patient entered the laser room. Her tatooed, muscular husband was with her. The doctor invited him in but instead he stayed out in the hallway, peeking in every once awhile and then turning back and saying, "Oh, my God!" He looked like he was going to pass out and told me that he could never have that done to him. I felt a little better about my moment of cradling a stuffed skunk for security.

The doctor came in and briefly examined me. 

"The right eye looks good. The left eye has a slight abrasion. That may take a little longer to heal. Use your drops and come back tomorrow for your follow-up."

Before I could process the thought of an "abrasion," he was gone. I got up and walked through a green meadow with butterflies back into the waiting room. 

I went home, took a sleeping pill, and went to sleep. 

About four hours later, I woke up in extreme discomfort…dare, I say pain. My eyes felt like they were on fire and my left eye particularly hurt. I took another sleeping pill and a few Advils and thankfully went back to sleep after about thirty minutes. 

I woke up the next morning and the pain was still there. I didn't want to open my eyes. Every time I did, they watered incessantly. It felt like a grain of sand was in both eyes and I wanted so badly to rub them but knew I could not. That's the one big no-no that they stressed over and over.  I had envisioned getting up the next morning and resuming normal life with clearer vision but that clearly wasn't happening. As the day progressed, I realized that the only thing that felt good was laying down with my eyes closed. So that's what I did most of the day. 

At my follow-up appointment that day, I could barely open my eyes to read the eye charts. Nothing was clear. Everything was blurry. My eyes were ultra-sensitive to light…and super-irritated. Another doctor came in and numbed my eyes to remove the protective contacts placed there after surgery. He mentioned the abrasion on my left eye and noted that a piece of eye tissue was sticking out from it. That didn't sound too good…or too fun to remove. He asked me to blink vigorously to see if that would remove it…otherwise, he would use an instrument to pull it out. I blinked vigorously. And thankfully dislodged it.

I asked about the abrasion. "How do you get an abrasion from laser surgery?" 

He hemmed and hawed a little bit and then finally said, "Well, the doctor may have had a little too much coffee and just slightly nicked you with one of the instruments during the surgery. It is not too hard to do." 

Oh, so the "abrasion" was more like a "nick" which was more like a "caffeine-induced mistake" which was causing my eye considerable pain. 

He gave me a presciption for pain medication in case the pain got worse after the numbing drops wore off. Thankfully when I got home, I went back to sleep. By the time I woke up, the pain had subsided substantially. My eyes were still irritated but not on fire. 

The next day was better…and the day after that a little better. 

Now ten days after surgery, I would say that my far vision is excellent. Still blurry at times but particularly clear in the daylight. In fact, my second follow up appointment indicated that I had 20/20 vision. 

But to my surprise, my near vision has gotten much worse.

Now going into this thing, they had informed me that I would need reading glasses. Unless I did a monovision correction (one eye corrected for far vision and the other for near vision), then Lasik wouldn't change my presbyopia. Of course, I didn't think that was a big deal since I grew up Presbyterian. Just kidding… Presbyopia literally means "old man eye" and that is what I have now that I am in my mid-40s.

Ahh, the joys of getting older. 

So since the surgery, it has been reading glasses for me. Thankfully you can buy a pair at Walmart for under $6…or apparently at the dollar store for…well, a dollar. I am still hoping that my near vision improves more but, if not, then I will probably invest in a nice pair of reading bifocals that are clear on top and readers on the bottom so that I don't have to keep pulling my glasses off and on or perch them on the end of my nose like my old librarian in middle school. I don't want to look that old yet. 

So here is what I have learned so far…

1. Getting older is a reality that is sometimes hard to face. My mind still feels 20 but my body is reminding me otherwise. 

2. Seeing is a precious gift. My biggest fear going through all of this was the thought of losing my sight. It is something that we take for granted…unless we lose it…or are around someone who has lost it. I know God sustains us whatever our circumstances are but I am thankful today for the gift of sight.  

3. I was reminded of the verse in 1 Corinthians 13:12 in which Paul says that, in this life, we see "in a mirror dimly." In other words, we do not have full knowledge. Our perspective is limited. Our understanding is blurry. Spiritually, no one sees 20/20 in this life. We all have blind spots, astigmatism, myopia, hyperopia, presbyopia. This should humble us, make us open to God's corrective lenses (Scripture), and give us a longing for the day when we see Him face to face. The day when our eyes are fully opened. The day when clarity replaces confusion. The day that we fully know as we have been fully known.

Lasik is only a small picture of how the light of Christ's glory will one day instantly correct our vision, dispel our darkness, and give us true sight. Life may be blurry now. But one day, both near and far, will be perfectly clear.

And that gives me hope…and peace…and security in this world…

Even when I still have to squeeze a stuffed skunk. 

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