Now that I look back, I think I should have reminiscence more specifically at the point at which my myopia sets in most strongly.
My vision now doesn't seem to be 20/20, but its far better then previously, though it does seem that my eyes aren't what they used to be.
Well, while it is fresh from my mind, let me recount the entire process of my Lasik experience:
It starts with a series of tests, almost 2 hours long, where they test your eyballs using all sorts of pretty harmless looking equipment. There were about 6 different machines and after that, a lengthy session with the sci-fi looking glasses that helps the optician accurately pinpoint what is the extent of your myopia.
On a side note, apparently there IS a possibility that you could claim Medisave for Lasik, but only if your myopia and astigmatism reached a certain ratio. I barely managed to fall into that category, so now it's cross-fingers and pray that I could get a government subsidy.
Next, the assistant will test your eyes with a series of eye-drops. The main reason according to her was to ensure that there is no allergic reaction to the eye-drops that would be use during the surgery itself.
So that was it for the first day.
The second day was a few days away (for those who find my English incomprehensible, good on you). It was a pretty long wait at the clinic before the consultant finally saw me. He gave me a thorough breakdown on what was the report on my eye, and even kindly drew me a diagram on how my eye saw stuff. (which was quite interesting actually - did you know that technically your eyes see things upside-down? Your brain turns it right side up) - anyway, he warned me that my retina thickness was below average, and the likelihood of me doing a second Lasik, in the event of an under-correction or similar might be near impossible.
Yes, it is possible for the doctor to make mistakes even with today's technology. That set me thinking. But eventually I relented and agreed to sign the indemnity and all the necessary forms.
The day of the surgery itself was nerve wrecking. I took an hours' leave to leave earlier from my office to travel to the clinic to calm myself down. The operation was scheduled to begin at 5:30, but there were plenty of things to do before that.
First I had to read through an indemnity listing all the possible side effects (which I already researched, found out and knew), the follow-up costs involved and of course, the payment.
Interestingly, (and most scarily), before the start of the operation, I had to upfront first. This was not the normal procedure that I generally hear about operations. But I did so anyway.
So begins the operation.
The assistant ran me through all the eye-test machines and confirmed all my eyeball statistics again, before asking me to change into the attire for the operation room. - you know, the pyjamas-like, light-weight green uniform that patients always wear in ER. Before proceeding to tilt back my head to input a barrage of de-sensitizing eyedrops.
Interestingly, I did not feel my eyes getting desensitized or numb. But of course, I would not for the life of me poke my eyes to find out.
In the operation theatre, the doctor was a jovial cherub and the two nurse beside him looked as serious as corpses. He bid me climb on the operation table where a huge machine hovered on top. It really looked like something out of a science fiction book.
I meekly crawled onto the bed, getting increasingly nervous with each passing moment.
Once I was "settled' and "in-place" (I use inverted commas because I was trembling seriously), the doctor started to crack multiple jokes, I guess in a bid to calm me down, but it didn't really work. It was more of my knowledge that he has done over a thousand patients and have over 20 years of experience that calmed me down.
He used a metallic clip-like thing to fasten over my eyes, causing me to be unable to blink I was thinking that I would be unable to control the blinking, after all... it was a natural human reaction to blink. But curiously enough, I did not feel the urge to blink. I guess that was the work of the numbing eyedrops.
Next, the surgeon put some eyedrops that did something, I'm not sure. But I know it's not the numbing eyedrops, as this particular eyedrops caused my vision to become blurry.
Immediately after that, he put a lens over the eye, and smeared some dark stuff onto the lens. Then the machine came to live.
I must say, even a man with ironballs would grimace on hearing the high pitch hum of the machine.
There were three lights, if I recall, green, yellow and blue, with a small red centre. The light was never blinding, nor was it painful to look at. My body was on manual processing mode, and every order from the surgeon was met with as precise a movement from my biological construct.
He told me to look into the red centre, and he calibrated some stuff, then begun the Lasik for real. The operation took less then 15 seconds, but it felt like a few minutes at least. The laser was not painful as it filled my entire vision with blue, yellow and green and red. But you could distinctly smell something burning, like a BBQ. I prayed so hard that nothing would go wrong.
Towards the end of the 15 seconds, my vision slowly started fading to darkness, then almost as fast as it faded, my vision came back, blindingly bright. - it was done, now for the other eye.
The total operation duration was 15 minutes tops, but it felt like hours inside.
When it was finally done, I cautiously lowered myself out of the bed and into heaven - everything around me was blazingly bright. The lights had massive halos, and white light was WHITE light. Even the doctor's suit seemed to be some holy radiant garment.
The surgeon then asked me to take a photo with him on his iPad and then proceeded to usher me out of the theatre.
I was given a pair of super dark sunglasses to wear, with extra protection around the edges for protection from the damnable haze. My eyes was flooded with an anti-inflammatory eyedrops and an antibiotic eyedrop. And I was sent packing.
So here I am - it has been about 2 weeks since the Lasik and my vision is slowly returning, but things are still blur, much to my angst. It feels like about 100 degrees right now. One protective lens is still in my right eye, as it is recovering slower then expected. But all is good.
I hope it will get better.
