Oct 11

I can…not see through time, but I do have bionic eyes.

Category: Random,Rants

I believe I briefly ranted at one point before about how I’ve always felt a certain kinship with Geordie La Forge and his blindness.  He wears a visor to see but it gives him constant headaches and is just generally a pain in the butt.  I relate because my glasses are so incredibly heavy (yes, I’ve got the super thin lenses, no they are not super thin on me because that’s just how intense my prescription is) that they are actually physically painful to wear.  I get headaches from straining to see but also feel pain on my nose and ears.  I can’t even wear my hair behind my ears because the extra weight is too much to handle (which goes a long way to explaining why I’ve always favoured haircuts that are low-maintenance and won’t flop in front of my face).  Plus glasses are a pain because in the summer when it’s hot, or if I’m exercising and I sweat, the glasses constantly slide down my nose and further impairs my vision.  In the winter I have two options: wear a scarf over my face and therefore go blind because of condensation fogging up my glasses or stay sighted but freeze my face off.  Both options suck. 

 If I didn’t have glasses, I would be considered legally blind.  I’m myopic with a prescription of -17.  To give you an idea of how bad that is, they don’t even offer disposable lenses, or prescription sunglasses, or lasik surgery for vision past -10.  So the only option available to me is something called ICL, where they implant a contact lens into your eye, behind the iris, in front of your natural lens. 

 This whole journey began with a trip to a lasik clinic, where they examined me and determined I was not a candidate.  Once they realized they weren’t going to get any money out of me I was quite rudely told to be on my way.  That’s right, LasikMD are assholes!  But the doctor mentioned something about something that might work for me… ahh, what?  I can’t hear you when you’re literally pushing me out the door… 

 So I did some online research and read up on this ICL thing and discovered that the only place in Montreal that does it is the Montreal Eye Clinic.  So I hemmed and hawed for a while and then I made an appointment.  They were very nice, but that may have to do with how much money they realized they could siphon out of me.  I was given the typical eye exams, told that my prescription is now -17.  My glasses, just a little over a year old are about -16, so my eyesight is STILL degrading, at age 33, it is STILL getting worse.  Christ on a cracker, will it ever stabilize?!  Ugh!

 Anyway, they were all quite impressed with the shittiness of my vision and told me I was indeed a candidate for ICL.  But before giving me the go ahead I would need to see a retinal specialist to make sure I was not at risk for retinal detachment… oooh scary!  So I went back another day and they dilated my pupils and then made me wait for a full 2 goddamn hours before the specialist literally poked my eyes with a little stick.  Yes, literally, not figuratively, literally.  Yes, it was painful.  I’m gonna give it a 50 on my pain scale.  0 being no pain and 100 being loss of consciousness or death.  So that was good times.  My retinas are…. more or less healthy.  The doctor said he saw something that concerned him but he is allowing me to get the surgery anyway.  I am at increased risk for retinal detachment because of my severe myopia and astigmatism.  It’s so fun to be me.  For regular peeps, ICL carries a 5 in 10,000 risk of detachment or cataracts… or death.  For me it’s about 25 in 10,000.  More good times.  But whatever, I’m taking the risk.  I need to ditch these glasses.

 But Nique, why not just wear contacts, you ask.  Yeah, I’ve done that.  But I have sensitive eyes on top of poor vision and after about 8 hours of contact wearing it’s just too painful to carry on.  And since my workday keeps me out of the house for at least 10 hours… and since my work involves staring at a computer screen all day… I used to just wear contacts on the weekend but then I decided that was not a cost effective solution to my blindness.  Because it’s expensive to get new contacts every year and new glasses every couple of years.  A couple hundred for contacts, glasses at my prescription run at about $800.00 a pop.  It adds up over time.  So will ICL save me money in the long run?  Well, it costs $3500.00 per eye.  And I’m told that because of my severe myopia and astigmatism, I may need some laser surgery on top of the implants, which will be another couple thousand.  Sooo… I guess after ten years I’ll start “saving” money.  Except my eyesight will probably continue to degrade and I’ll need glasses again eventually.  *sigh* It’s so awesome being me.  But as I said, my heavy glasses are physically painful and I’m just sick of them.  Sick of the shrinkage (everything looks smaller through the glasses, same way my eyes look small behind the thick lenses) sick of showering blind, sick of waking up in the middle of the night and not being able to see the time on the alarm clock, sick of entering a building in winter and the temperature differential fogging up my glasses and forcing me to feel my way through the building, sick of my glasses literally sliding off my face and crashing to the floor whenever I work out.  I’m just over it.

 Then I had an appointment at the Longueuil clinic, which… why?  They did one tiny little exam that took two seconds and scheduled an iridotomy, which is where they drill little holes into your irises with a laser.  This is so the ocular fluid can flow despite the implantable lens being in the eye and whatever, whatever, technical blah blah blah.  Thankfully the iridotomy and all further surgeries were to take place at the downtown clinic, just a few steps from my workplace. 

 The technician assured me the iridotomy would be painless.  I don’t know if she was lying or if they didn’t give me enough anesthetic but that shit hurt.  Not enough to complain about but enough to have me concerned that maybe something was going wrong.  As the doctor was lasering me, he kept telling me to stop blinking but like, dude, you’re lasering my eye, I’m just running on reflex here.  Fucking toolshed.  Interestingly, only my right eye was blinky like that, which didn’t surprise me, ‘cause for the past few months, my right eye has started twitching like I’m Rusi or something.  But my left eye is fine and didn’t blink at all while it was lasered.  Anyway, once the iridotomy was done, they pushed me out of there faster than an ADD kid on speed.  That was a bit weird, they’d always been so accommodating previously.  I guess they were like, whatevs, since they’d already gotten my money.  So I walked home half blind (blurred vision from the eye drops that dilate the irises) and as the night went on, the pain increased.  But by the next day I was fine.  Then I waited around for the lenses to arrive. 

 Waiting was nerve wracking and I was very anxious to get it done.  The idea of being able to see without glasses is… a very foreign one.  I have no memories of good vision.  I was about 4-years-old when I started to lose my vision so I really don’t remember any time when I could see properly.  Bad vision is just a part of who I am.  All the little aforementioned annoyances, they are just part of what makes me, me, which is why I’m apprehensive.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m ecstatic about the surgery and can’t wait to be able to see properly but there is a part of me that feels an upcoming sense of loss.  Will I lose a fundamental part of my Niqueness if I’m not blind?  Maybe.  But even though blindness is a core part of my being, it is also a core part of my suffering.  It SUCKS to be blind.  And so I am happy to shell out cash and risk my health to improve my standard of living.  And yet… I will mourn the loss of my glasses, I really will.  A friend told me that missing my glasses would be like a paralyzed person missing their wheelchair if they could suddenly walk.  Why would you miss something that limited you?  Because, I say, because sure, the paralyzed dude couldn’t walk, but that chair was part of his identity and he and the chair had many fun adventures rolling up ramps together.  Yeah, running up the stairs would be better, but rolling up the ramp is what he had, and it was just a part of him.  That’s why.  So of course he’d ditch the chair and of course I’ll ditch my glasses, but I’ll still keep them in my box of sentimentally valuable items.  After all, when Geordie got new eyes, didn’t we all yell at the screen and mourn the loss of his visor?  I mean, the visor is what made Geordie interesting.  It’s who he was.  Without the visor, he’s just Data’s overly enthusiastic pal. 

 But then this Monday I got the call.  Hey, can you come in tomorrow to get the surgery?  Uhhh… sure.  Do you have your eyedrops?  No, you never gave me any eyedrops.  Can you come in right now to get them?  Yes, yes I can.  So I ran off to pick up the eyedrops, emailed my boss to say I’d be taking the rest of the week off and inundated my eyes with the preparatory drops.  The next day I was at the clinic bright and early.  They dilated my eyes, gave me antibiotic drops, anesthetic drops and put an IV shunt in my hand, just in case.  In case of what?  Not sure, but whatevs, you do what you gotta do.  While the iridotomy was very casual and done as nonchalantly as any exam, the implantation was in a proper surgical room, and I was given a little hat to cover my hair and little booties for my feet, but I kept my street clothes on.  I was laid down in a chair, and a blood pressure monitor was put on my arm and a pulse monitor was put on my finger.  A very kind and accommodating nurse, the one who put in the IV, cleaned around my eye with disinfectant and I was told to open my eye so he could drop a bit of disinfectant inside.  I knew they’d already given me some anesthetic but that was still scary because I once accidently put disinfectant in my eye (I thought it was saline solution, I was putting in contacts) and holy shit, it was the MOST painful thing EVER!  But I let him drop the disinfectant and was relieved to feel no pain. 

 I was covered from head to toe in a surgical sheet that had a little hole for the eye to stick out.  (They would be doing the right eye that day, the left would be the next day.)  My eye was taped open, which was quite uncomfortable and one of those Clockwork Orange thingies was used to prop open my eye to prevent blinking, which kind of hurt.  I think it’s a natural reaction to close your eyes when something scary or uncomfortable is happening, but when you’re getting eye surgery you can’t do that.  So in spite of my bad vision I could still see what was happening.  I saw a needle come towards my eye but thankfully all it did was drop more anesthetic.  My vision blurred but I could still make out the scalpel.  My jaw was clenched but I made a little squeak of pain when I felt something pushing on my eye.  The doctor assured me I was not feeling pain, just pressure.  Gee, thanks for telling me what I’m feeling, jerkwad.  I wish someone would have been narrating the experience, so I could know what kind of progress they were making, how far along they were.  It was annoying to wait and not know what was going on.  I couldn’t speak because I didn’t want to move my head.  The doctor kept telling me to raise my chin and not move but I had no idea I was moving.  I heard him ask for the spatula… maybe that’s to push in the lens?  Well, then it was over.  It really didn’t take that long.  They Clockwork Orange thingy was removed, the tape was ripped off… um, ow, do I have any eyelashes left?  I was given some pills, not told what they were for but swallowed dutifully.  I was totally blind at this point and escorted to the recovery area, which is in the same room as the prep area.  I was offered something to drink and told to put on my gigantic, yellow-tinted, post-op glasses. 

 Things came into focus and I realized… holy shit, I’m not wearing my glasses but I can still see.  I almost cried but then stopped myself, ‘cause that’s probably not good for my eye at this point.  My left eye was totally blind but my right eye, while blurred, could see well enough to make out my surroundings.  Trippy.  The nurse came and taped up the IV shunt in my hand.  They would leave it in since I was coming back the next day for the other eye and no point in taking it out and putting it back in.  I waited.  And waited.  And waited.  Not allowed to do anything.  Waited.  Waited.  Waited.  Damn, I had to pee.  I made my way to the bathroom and then came back and waited some more.  The doctor took at look at my eye and told me to come back in an hour.  I went downstairs and had a snack and waited and listened to music and waited.  Went back.  The doctor seemed concerned.  Come back in an hour.  Waited, waited, waited.  Still concerned.  Come back in an hour.  Waited, waited, waited.  I was given drops and the doctor spazzed out when I dabbed at my dripping eye with a Kleenex.  NEVER TOUCH YOUR EYE!!!!  I was given more pills, which were apparently an anti-inflammatory thing.  I was given more pills to take that night and sent on my way, with a separate eyedrop schedule for each eye. 

 When you’re not allowed to use your eyes, life is boring.  I actually covered my operated eye and put on my glasses and watched a bit of TV, I was so bored.  The pain increased as the anesthetic wore off.  Well, not pain exactly, just an awareness of having something in my eye, like when you have an eyelash or a grain of sand in your eye, it’s annoying.  I put in the drops as told and the Kleenex (not on my eye, just wiping the drips on my cheeks) was stained yellow.  Ugh!  Does that mean my eye is pussy?!  I considered calling the emergency line but decided to wait it out.  Then next time I put drops they dripped down clear.  Phew!  The worst part was the IV in my hand.  Soooo itchy!  And if I moved my hand too much it would hurt, so I didn’t move it, so my hand quickly went numb.  That sucked. 

 The next day I was back for the left eye.  It went much more smoothly.  There was no nice nurse this time around, and the doctor did the thing with the disinfectant in the eye.  This time it burned.  I told the one nurse present that it hurt and she assured me that they’d be applying more anesthetic.  Phew!  So it all happened again, and this time apparently I was moving my eyeball.  The doctor kept telling me to stop moving my eye.  I didn’t know I was moving it!  I knew what to expect this time so I wasn’t as apprehensive and it was over in no time.  They finally removed the IV shunt!  What a relief!  Back to the recovery area and the waiting.  I was told that my right eye was doing great and so was my left and released much more quickly and without any pills. 

 So here’s the thing:  I was hoping for a revelatory experience but it has yet to occur.  I’ve worn contacts before and the first time I put in a new pair, it’s always an awe-inspiring experience, where you look around and see the crisp detail in everything and you almost feel like you can see through time.  This has not happened with the implants.  It’s been a few days now, and the technicians testing my eyes tell me my eyesight is great but I don’t feel like it is.  There is no crispness.  No precision.  A nurse told me I could see well enough to drive, but I don’t want to drive, I want to time-travel!  So I’m a little disappointed in that regard.  I’m also annoyed that I no longer have close vision.  With my myopia, I couldn’t see far, couldn’t see more than 10cm in front of my face, but those 10cm gave me detail you wouldn’t believe.  If I put my face right into something, I could see every tiny little precise detail and it was amazing.  That is now gone.  Now I’m like a normal person and anything closer than 10cm is a blur.  This is the sense of loss I knew I’d experience.  But oh well, it’s still cool.  It’s pretty fanfreakingtastic to wake up in the middle of the night and be able to see the time!!!  And everything is big now.  Huge!  I looked down and thought for a second that they’d given me a foot transplant too; I have clown feet!  But no, I’m just suddenly seeing everything in real size.  Seriously, I’m needing to relearn money sizes.  Nickles look like quarters, quarters look like toonies, toonies look like Frisbees.  The world is enormous!

 I was warned that I might need some laser on top of the implants, so maybe if that happens I’ll get the precision of vision I crave.  I’m still hopeful that the slight blurriness and lens flares will go away.  My eyes are still tired and get sore easily.  They get itchy a lot, so I always look forward to putting in the drops because they relieve the itch.  I get that feeling where you’ve been wearing your contacts too long and you can’t wait to get home to take them out, except I don’t have to take them out!  Weird.  I can just close my eyes if they are sore.  Awesome.

4 comments

4 Comments so far

  1. Caro October 11th, 2009 11:52 am

    Congrats on the new vision! I’m so impressed you had the guts to do that surgery, I would have been FREAKING OUT!!!
    I can totally relate to the fear of loosing a part of who you are. When ever I hear about “we may have found a cure for MS” I get really happy but part of me gets kind of scared. It’s such a part of me now, as much as I hate it. And what if they say “ok, you’re cured” but I don’t feel any better and everyone expects me to feel great and I don’t.
    Anyways, I’m real proud of you for going through with the operation. And you DO have clown feet, it’s not an illusion 😉

  2. Paddlefoot October 11th, 2009 9:29 pm

    Good for you… welcome to the sighted world! Good job, “nutting up” and going for the surgery… it can’t have been easy.

    I’m sure that as time passes and you heal, you’ll be much happier with the results than you are now (re: the discomfort and itchiness, etc.)

    At least now you don’t have to spring for a big-screen TV…. the one you had just magically doubled in size!

  3. Nique October 11th, 2009 9:49 pm

    Caro: totally hear you on the MS thing. I have no desire to “cure” my anemia.

    Paddle: Hah! Already had a big screen. Now it’s REALLY big!

  4. Susan October 12th, 2009 3:15 pm

    Hey Nique,

    Thanks for the info. Despite what you were told about being unable to do lasik below -10, I had it done and I was a -13. I can identify with all your experiences of helplessness, and can tell you that seeing the clock at night and being able to find the soap in the shower was a miracle. As warned, the correction regressed and after two years I was wearing glasses again, but my correction was about a -1.5, which after what I’d lived with, was nothing. The doctor kept telling me he’d touch it up, but I resisted since I was now pushing 50 and needed to do the bifocal thing anyway.

    However about two years ago I started having more vision problems, which have now been explained as “early cataracts”, the solution for which is IOL (accommodating intraocular lens), which unlike ICL, corrects for presbyopia (the condition whereby old people can’t read close up). The biggest risk is (as you know) retinal detachment, which your grandmother can tell you is a bitch. I think I’m going to do it in any case. The price had been quoted at $3500 an eye (and you think the oil companies are all in collusion….)

    Anyway, keep me posted on the vision changes…

    -Susan

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