I know I mentioned that I had the first of my eye surgeries, but I don't think I told you about it. I'm sure you're probably thinking (because I know you so well) that's because I don't remember it. Truth is, I do.
The thing is, you are not actually supposed to remember eye surgery. They give you this handy little thing called a waking sedative, which is basically like the date rape drug but less rape-y. The waking sedative makes sure you are awake, feeling most of what's happening, but you don't remember anything later. Also, they basically break your eye spine so you are completely paralyzed.
Okay, fine, eyes don't have spines and only my right eye and part of my face was paralyzed. What they really do is give you a shot just below your eye that causes one of those moments like you see in horror movies where the person is lying on the autopsy table but they aren't actually dead but they can't let anybody know because they're paralyzed and we as the audience hear them screaming inside their head. You know, one of those moments? Which is pretty much exactly like breaking your eye spine.
This shot is pretty much the only thing I don't remember.
Apparently I didn't learn my lesson from years of experiencing information as passed on by somebody in Wellpinit, so when my nurse practitioner told me I'd be having surgery on the 27th, I took that as meaning I was having surgery on the 27th. What I should have taken from her statement was that I was going to spend hours having my eyeballs continuously dilated so aliens could shine bright lights into them and probe my nether regions.
Fine, there was no nether region probing, as far as I can remember. I did lose a little bit of time, so the jury is still out on that one.
See, the Spokane Eye Clinic is smarter than I am and decided they wouldn't just take the word of a reservation nurse practitioner that I was going blind. So, they wanted to run every test known to man, then tell me exactly the same thing I already knew, THEN tell me how expensive all of this was going to be, all with the end game of scheduling a surgery I thought was already scheduled.
I have to interrupt here to say that the doctor was afuckingmazing and did everything he could to help me out. He heard that the tribe wouldn't pay for any of this so he told the billing lady to only charge me the Medicaid rate. Then, when I told him that I thought my surgery was happening that day, he said, "we can do it today if you want. It doesn't take very long, I can do it on my lunch break!"
I went back and forth between thinking he was the most amazing doctor EVER and wondering why he was so keen on taking a laser to my retina. Maybe it was a new laser and he was dying to try his new toy. I don't know, but it was a little sketchy.
I said that would be awesome because I couldn't really afford to take more time off work and he said that was no problem, I just had to have another test done first. So, I went and had my right eye dilated again so they could take more pictures of the hamster inside my skull. I think they might be stalking him. I was then taken upstairs to the surgery center for the procedure.
Now, this is where things started to go a little wrong. They didn't know exactly when the doctor was taking his lunch, so they dilated my pupil for the THIRD time that morning to make sure, "it was nice and open for him". That's where things got slightly more rape-y, but just for that one moment.
Then, they put in my IV and put a big X over my right eye to signify where to point the laser I guess. If that wasn't enough of an indication as to which eye needed lasering*, they covered the other eye with a clear plastic disk that had a bunch of little holes along the edges.
Me: Hey babe, do I look like a cyborg?
Jero: The masking tape holding it on makes you look more like a Wal-Mart cyborg.
Then came the guy with the needles. Now, I remember him introducing himself to me, and I do feel bad that I have no idea what his name was. Can you imagine having the job where nobody remembers anything you've said? Oh yeah, I work in customer service, I have that job too. He put the waking sedative into my IV and for a short time that is all I remember. I don't remember the needles in my face (which because he's a big baby about eyes, Jero can't even tell me how big the needles were). I don't remember repeatedly calling him Pokey. And I most certainly do not remember telling Jero to take this:
Resistance is futile!
because I apparently needed a picture for my blog because, "I'm a blogger".
I am so embarrassed. I do not actually think I am a blogger. I think I basically keep an online journal for my seven readers. One of which is often present for most of what I write about. But the date rape drug also gave me delusions of grandeur. Which makes it much better than the actual date rape drug. That and the absence of rape.
I think the surgery is meant to happen shortly after the shots, but the doctor wasn't there yet. So, by the time they took me into the procedure room, I was pretty much aware of what was going on. I still couldn't move my eye, but I do remember every second of the lasering.**
I remember that the nurses job was to hold my head in place because when your eye is immobile, your first instinct when seeing six lasers shooting at your eye is to turn your head away. I wanted to tell her it is never okay to push the head down, but I didn't think she'd admit to getting it in front of her boss.
For the next twenty minutes I experienced what I can only explain as a tattoo on your eyeball. But not the beginning of the tattoo, more like the end where it feels like someone keeps scraping your bad sunburn. BUT ON MY EYEBALL. About the time I started crying from both eyes, he said he was almost done. If I could have nut punched him I would have, but that damn nurse was still holding my head against the bars. I should have boob punched her and then nut punched him, but I honestly didn't think of it until right now.
Next time, sadists, next time.
Once done, they taped my eye closed because it was still paralyzed and they didn't want it to dry out, and sent me back out to the torture chair. Then they told me that I would be in a significant amount of pain soon and it would be a good idea to take some Tylenol. Seriously? I didn't even get one Vicodin for all of that?
Jero and I got home and I tried to eat lunch. About that time someone starting drilling inside my skull and my appetite was pretty much ruined. I have never had a migraine before, but I'm pretty sure that's what I experienced that day and a handful of times since.
After the paralysis wore off, I was able to take off the tape, to have the fun of serious double vision. Though I did enjoy playing the Is-That-The-Real-Thing-Or-The-Double-Thing Game. Most often than not, I should have switched my answers and I would have been right.
The next day started with the migraine still being extremely annoying and me thinking that he had screwed up somehow and made me worse. Do you remember that episode of King of Queens when Doug finds out that Carrie has hated all of his gifts so he decides to get her Lasik surgery for her birthday, but he uses the guy that he has a coupon for and it goes really wrong? That was what I thought had happened. I kept thinking, no wonder he gave me the Medicaid rate, he gave me the coupon worthy laser treatment!
My vision took about a week to get back to normal, and even now if I look too far up and right the migraine comes back. I get to do it all again in February but I'm hoping this time I won't remember a thing. I prefer my blackouts complete thankyouverymuch.
Also, I still think I may have been abducted by aliens and/or probed. Think about it, it's the perfect ruse for those aliens. "Waking sedative" my ass.
*Dictionary.com says lasering isn't a word. I say they are stupid.
**Okay, now it sounds like an M. Night movie. The Lasering. Only it wouldn't suck as hard as his last movie because at least there'd be lasers and not just pissy plants.
Hug those babies, don't drink anything you've left unattended, and watch out for UFOs.