To see clearly

My new paper weight

As promised, I am writing this post without the aid of any lenses, for which I am incredibly grateful.

My vision is not quite perfect yet but it is getting closer every day. When I go to bed now, I feel unsettled because clearly I have forgotten to take my contacts out; a blurry world was my cue to sleep. I am getting used to it amazingly fast though. In another 6 months I’ll probably be taking it completely for granted. We get used to comfort way too quickly.

I’m working on writing a description of the procedure and recovery because I feel this might be one of the extremely rare times that the internet actually needs my perspective. My typical, non-freaky, totally average perspective.

The intertubes really are the most fertile ground for growing horror stories. Every little complaint and freak situation finds an outlet and a flock of affirmations on blogs and obscure discussion boards and Google will happily dredge them up for you on command.

I know of what I speak, because in a moment of weakness the night before my surgery I googled “PRK recovery.”

This was stupid,  clearly. I had done my research, but like a good academic I had mostly confined myself to peer-reviewed, scientific literature. Fuelled by my nervousness, I was craving something more personal, more human.

I soon found blogs of people documenting their recoveries in excruciating detail and let myself get sucked into their stories and eventually into gut wrenching anxiety. They made the recovery sound so slow, so difficult. Commenters confirmed their experiences. I suddenly worried I had no idea what I was actually getting myself into. My ever-rational husband calmed me down by reminding me of how much the internet skews reality, but I still barely slept that night.

Of course in hindsight I can recognize that the stories that bubble to the top are always going to be the bad ones because they attract the commiserating masses. No wonder the innocent bystander who stumbles onto this mope-fest gets the impression that this experience is typical. It’s how this place works – misery loves company meanwhile the happy are out there living their lives, too busy to be chronicling every moment on discussion boards.

But I’m not too busy – I will chronicle it for you. No really, all I did tonight was eat dinner, cuddle with my dog with such dedication that John had to wait on me hand and foot so I wouldn’t disturb her, and snort-laugh through Thursday night’s hilarious TV line-up of 30 Rock, Parks and Recreation and The Office.

So if you haven’t completely lost respect for me after reading that, stay tuned!

Advertisements

Posted on March 8, 2012, in Health, Life and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. The day I got glasses I cried. Both because I could see better, and because I knew my sight was never going to be the same.

    :)

    -MTO

  2. Glad you’re OK! Looking forward to hearing about it xx

  3. Hey I was late reading everything about your operation… but I hope it all went well at the hospital, that they treated you well, that you are feeling better and that the recovery will be as painless as possible and that you will enjoy your “new” sight.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: