Miracles are happening!

So, this post might not interest a single soul. But I don't care. I want to write down what I'm feeling; what I experienced; how my world has been rocked - because I want to remember this.

Last picture with glasses

I am blind as a bat. 

Well, I was.

I have been that way forever. I picked out my first pair of glasses the week before I turned 10. Thankfully, that was back before everything was digital....so I don't have a million pictures to document my awesome glasses. (At least I thought they were awesome!)  They were seafoam green with purple splotches...and they enabled me to discover there actually ARE individual leaves at the tops of trees. (They weren't just a green blob at the top!) I could read stop signs and road signs and even billboards through those amazing spectacles. I felt like I possessed a miracle.

Then, when I was 16, I was finally able to have contacts. Another amazing world opened up - sunglasses!  I didn't have to wipe my contacts dry if I was caught in the rain. I could even lay down on my side and watch tv. (It's the little things people)

But back in November of 2011 - I had a horrible eye infection. I was not allowed to drive - at all - for 6 weeks. They honestly didn't know if my eyes would ever be able to heal and recover from the damage that had been done.  I was on steroids and antibiotics and anti-inflammatory eye drops from November of 2011 until November 2012.  I was not allowed to wear contacts - I had to be very careful to not re-injure my eyes. I had always hoped I would be able to have eye surgery...but with the infection and the scarring that resulted, it seemed like a very long shot. 

Then, in December - last month - my Opthamologist said the most amazing words, "Your eyes have healed enough. We can evaluate you for Lasik."

I cried. I laughed. I was an emotional basket case. 

Thankfully, I've become pretty great friends with him over the last year - and his wife is pregnant - so he wasn't freaked out by my water-works at all.
I mean, I was crying, and he hadn't even said I could have the surgery.
I was just finally healthy enough to be evaluated for the surgery.

So, 2 weeks later, I was back at the office. Being put through test after test. Being grilled about my health. Nervously awaiting the verdict. Would my eyes be able to have the surgery? Could I do it?

YES.

I cried again.

I was so excited and so overwhelmed at the idea of getting up to pee in the night and not walking into a wall - I couldn't help but cry.

All of this brings me to yesterday. 

Yesterday was the day of my miracle.
Of sight.

I'll admit - I wasn't so very worried about the laser. I was, however, pretty nervous about the valium. I don't take meds. Like, ever. So I had no idea of how I would respond to the valium. I was worried it would make me nauseous or dizzy or break out in hives. Thankfully, it just made me really, really, REALLY, silly. (Which, if you know me, is saying something.)  

going "pink" for our Ladies Christmas party

The Doctor was very kind and came in to verbally walk me through the procedure before it all went down. It sounded so simple. So quick. No big deal. Which kinda made me feel stupid for having my stomach flipping upside down in knots. (Note - HE didn't make me feel stupid, that was all me.)

They put my hair in one of those super-sexy-doctor-hair-net-thingys....and off I walked down the hall to the procedure room. (I don't have a picture. My bad.)

I handed the Doctor my glasses, placed them in his blurry hand, and laid down.  The entire room was blurry. The lights, the machine, the Doctor's hands which were just inches from my face.

Listen - when I say I was blind, I mean it. You know that BIG "E" on the eye chart? I couldn't see it. It was just a slightly gray fuzzy area with white fuzz around it.  I was blind. I walked into walls. My vision could not even be corrected to 20/20 with glasses or contacts. 

I laid back on the bed, and slid under the machine's arm.  A piece of plastic holding my eyelid still. A blinking light. No moving for 8 seconds. Remove. Repeat. Some tape on all lashes. A tool on my eyeball. Hold still for 20 seconds. Noise. Smelling smoke. Remove. Repeat.
Then I sat up.
And I could see.
I could SEE.

The doctor was not a blurry mass. He was a person. He helped me off the table - we walked out of the room, and they took my picture. And I could SEE the camera. I didn't just look in the general direction of the camera - I looked AT the camera.

And I cried.
I cried when they told me it was normal for it to blurry - for it to look like I was looking through water. I cried because it was so much clearer than that. Already it looked as clear as if I was looking through dirty glasses. Where less than 10 minutes earlier everything was a blur - it was just slightly soft edges. When he checked my eyes - for the first time I can ever remember - I could actually SEE the ear I was supposed to be looking at.
So, I cried.

On the way home, I laughed. With wild, valium induced, abandon.  I was shocked at how heavy my eyelids were. I could not stop laughing!  And giggling.  Once home, I slept for 2 hours, and then was good to go. 100% ready for normal life.

 After I woke up from my nap. (Please ignore the Boy Bean snot on my shoulder)

Now, I'm sporting these AWESOME protective goggles for 7 days - round the clock - and seeing clearer than I ever have. At my post-op my vision was 20/20 in my right eye and 20/15 in my left. Absolutely amazing.
I'll admit, it is odd to not think about glasses or contacts. I've worn those things for 21 years...and I feel slightly odd without them.
The best part about the goggles? People at church last night didn't even think something was up. They thought I was dressing up or doing something silly and the goggles were just a part of my get up!

Maybe the girl rockin' the seafoam green glasses is who I will always be. :)

~Whitney
 Copyright 2013