Lasik.

So I’m driving through Jones Valley Farm this morning to drop Helen off at school…. I’m wearing my super-stylin’ eye shield goggles (which are like unattractive racquetball goggles), and I looked from Garth road across the valley to the mountains on the other side.

There are individual trees on top of those mountains. With individual trunks, and branches, and light shining through.

The light poles along the sides of Carl T. Jones Drive ? Crisp edges. The electrical wires are unique, single individuals instead of linear blurs.

My astigmatism has never been fully corrected. I can read the “Chevrolet” logo on the truck parked in the driveway across the street. I’ve always known what it SAID, but I couldn’t read it before. Now I can.

I asked the surgeon specifically if I’d ever be able to wear contacts again should my eyes change as I age. He said, “You shouldn’t have to — the goal is for you NOT to ever have to, but yes, you could if you needed to.” Reading glasses? Yes. I’ll need those just as I would if I hadn’t had LASIK. But that doesn’t bother me so much. What *bothered* me was the idea of having to get the $600+ polybicarbonate bifocals because my lenses would otherwise be half an inch thick. That issue has been eradicated.

I expect that today will be somewhat emotional for me, as I discover the world in all its crispness. I’m particularly enjoying looking at the trees and the snarls of teeny tiny little branches at each tip that I’ve never been able to see before.

What else in this world have I missed since I couldn’t see it?

Wow.

As for the pain/discomfort today? Some light sensitivity and it feels like I’ve worn my contacts too long — kind of gunky and they burn a bit. But not too bad. Yesterday until about 6 (they finished the surgery at 2) was the worst. And the suction cups that held my eyes in place for the laser have given my eyeballs hickies, so they’re very very bloodshot on the outer whites. But even that has dissipated a lot since last night.

I won’t lie — the actual surgery is not pleasant. Especially as they finish the first eye and you realize in your Valium stupor, “Oh, shit, I’ve gotta do that again.” And I have very small orbits and very tight lids (my suspicion that my eyes are small and beady has been confirmed by an expert. Gee, thanks!). But as the surgeon led me out of the surgical suite and back to an exam room, I could see Jerry’s face — CLEARLY — through the haze. I started to cry with joy right there — of all the things in this world that I have ever wanted, clear vision has always topped the list. And I got to experience it for the first time since childhood yesterday. Maybe the first time ever. I don’t remember the world ever being this clear.

🙂

Recovery

I had surgery Monday. Girl surgery, for further repair to childbirth-related injuries.

It hurts to sit. You take sitting for granted until it hurts to do it.

That said, I still feel about 6 weeks further into recovery than I was 2 days after my last surgery. The very fact that I’m up and moving around, helping the girls get into pajamas and brushing their hair after bathtime is a HUGE success.

Not a fan of surgery, though. But I know I’ll be glad later.

Hooray! He’s sick!

A year ago + a few weeks, I had my nasty surgery. The decision to have the surgery meant that we had reached another decision — to not have any more children. This is because another pregnancy could be very dangerous for me — not only because I’d be high risk anyway because of the issues that happened with Alice’s pregnancy (preterm labor, etc.), but because pressure on my repaired rectal muscle from the weight of a fetus could be bad, and another tear during childbirth could equal a devastating physical problem for me because I don’t have enough muscle left to facilitate another repair.

I had always pictured myself as a mom of three, because I was the third child. I was a surprise, too — my mom said that she was “done,” after having my brothers 14 months apart (and one of them while Dad was in Vietnam — Tom was 9 months old before Dad ever saw him). She and my dad used contraception (more than one type), and I was conceived anyway. She decided that God must have plans for me, and though she was unusually emotional all the way through the pregnancy and didn’t really want a third child, she said that she cannot imagine her life without a daughter. That she didn’t know how much she needed and wanted me until I was here. Oddly enough, my feelings have never been hurt by the fact that I knew I was a surprise — because she never presented it as a bad thing. Just a “God had other plans” thing. Anyway, I had always figured I would have three, also, because all my cousins were from families of three (except for one aunt and uncle that had a surprise fourth), my parents were both one of three, my brother had three… I just figured I’d have three. But then Alice’s pregnancy (spotting, morning sickness, preterm labor, bedrest) was so HARD. And her infancy (colic, ear infections, ear infections, ear infections, sleep issues probably stemming from the ear infections and then developing into a habit) was so HARD. And I was having increasing difficulty going to public places with the two of them and being certain that I’d get to a bathroom in time for one of my emergencies (for those of you just joining in, I had a 4th degree tear during Helen’s birth that left me with no rectal control — the only weapon I had was sitting down, which you can’t exactly do in Target while pushing a cart with two children). So I decided that the risks of another pregnancy outweighed the benefits, and we decided to call our family complete.

Last April, Jerry had the famous V, and got the “all clear” (pun intended) after 12 weeks or whatever it was. And I scheduled my surgery. When I weaned Alice, it was about a week until my surgery. I was more focused on the surgery than I was on the passing of an era, so I didn’t dwell on it. Then again, I’m not exactly the type to hold onto stuff, either — I’ve always annoyed myself with the ease I can move into another chapter without looking back, while my friends from old chapters are still keeping in touch and enjoying the memories. For a sentimental fool, I have a pretty short attention span.

So. Surgery comes and I recover, and life resumes as normal.

Then, this past week, on Tuesday, I felt… odd. Queasy. Tired. Nauseated, with a headache. I ran around all day on Tuesday, and just felt HORRIBLE. No appetite. Had crackers for lunch. And a Sprite. Yuck. I told a friend of mine that it felt like morning sickness. And that I would be VERY VERY unhappy about that, because I had made PEACE with the decision to be a mommy of two and had my surgery. There’s no going back. Then I came home Tuesday evening, and Jerry said that I felt “warm” to him. So I took my temperature — it was slightly elevated. I’ve never been so happy to have a fever in my life! Morning sickness doesn’t come with a fever!! But I was so incredibly nauseated — I had to take an anti-nausea pill just so I could sleep, because my tummy would not settle down that night!

Wednesday through Saturday I felt okay… A little heartburn, but nothing serious. Today, I woke up with terrible heartburn (complete with the icky telltale belching), and an unsettled tummy again. I was green all the way through church, and Jerry was very concerned. While the girls were in Sunday School we went to the grocery store, and let me tell you — it was a VERY low bill. Elaine bought nothing on impulse! Haha!

And then we came home. And since we got home, Jerry has been flattened. He can’t keep anything down, not even the anti-nausea pills we have.

When he told me that he must have caught what I had, I said, “I’m so sorry you don’t feel well, but HALLELUJAH! We know that your V didn’t fail!” He at least was able to twist his face into a small grin, because he’s as happy as I am that my poor body won’t be going through that again (and this scare has been enough to make me ask my OB/GYN if he can tie my tubes when I have more minor repair surgery in the next year).

My poor guy… but my goodness he has made me a happy woman today. Even if I do still have heartburn.