Stare at the red dot, I’m directed. So, I stare at the red blob that I see. I’m told that a little movement is not bad – the system has tracking ability – but try to minimize it as much as possible. Then the laser fires… zap, zap, zap… The technician counts off the seconds at the treatment continues. At about twenty, there begins a white haze in my vision – and there was no prior warning of this. However, the blob has become what looks like a red LED. I decide not to panic, but to be patient. At twenty-seven, the laser stops. The eye is again irrigated – and glory be, the white stuff was nothing but corneal debris to be washed away. Apply the “bandage” contact lens, and the tool is removed, allowing that eye to blink once again.
Then the right eye is covered, and the left readied for treatment. This side is only getting a 23-second treatment – less astigmatism to correct, I suppose. Same procedure – technician and doctor double verify patient name, and eye to be treated, and the duration of laser treatment. Watch the red dot… see the haze… and watch it wash away (with more cold water down the neck. Brr…). Apply the “bandage”, remove the tool, and blink again.
After the chair is elevated to the upright position, I am astounded that I can read the various signs on the wall – signs that were nothing but a blur before. I’m taken to another room, where a technician looks at the eyes to see how they appear, and to hand over the medications I will need for the next week, and my new UV protection sunglasses that I will need. There is also a roll of tape, and two plastic shields to secure over my eyes as I sleep.
I go back to the lounge to gather my things, and then depart the hospital, wearing the sunglasses. I had driven to the Days Inn where I decided to spend my leave, and walked to the hospital. I walk back, marveling at my new vision… I can see the pebbles in the sidewalk… individual leaves remaining in the trees… actually see the drivers in the cars as they pass.
The rest of the day was spent in my room (with lights dimmed), excepting the run just down the block for food. I imagine I looked rather odd at Pizza Hut, wearing dark shades inside after dark.
The next day I had to go back for the first post-op follow-up. Things look pretty good, and I’m not having pain. Reminded to follow the eye-drop regimen, and sent back to my room. I’m able at that point to read a paperback and watch a movie.
Wednesday morning – about 0130 - out of a sound sleep, I’m awoken by an aggravation in my left eye. It feels like there is an eyelash. I try to see in the mirror (too fuzzy that close), and do a lot of blinking to try to dislodge it. Nothing works – not even the artificial tears. The aggravation is enough that I call the duty corpsman at the hospital, and walk to see him. He examines my eye and determines there is nothing there. I’m told it’s a “normal” pain reaction (Yo – doc. It isn’t hurting, it’s just driving me nuts), and he puts a drop of tetracain in the eye. Within seconds the aggravation is gone. In the course of this, I tell him that I’ve never worn contacts before – to which he slaps his hand to his forehead… evidently, that’s a question he should have asked at the beginning. I’m sent back, and return to a sound sleep.
Wednesday, though, I spent the day dozing. Just very tired, though I do wake often enough to keep the regimen of eye drops going.
Thursday – wake feeling great. Stayed in the room for the most part, reading and watching some DVD’s.
Friday – the 4-day follow-up. I’m given a brief exam, and am told I am seeing 20/30 in the right eye, 20/35 in the left. New instructions – no more Vigamox starting the next day. A declining regimen for the eye drops over the next two months. And written instructions that for the next year I am required to wear UV protection at all times when outdoors.
Saturday – back to work for a duty day.
Two-week follow-up. Little bit lengthier exam, and news that I am seeing 20/25 in both eyes.
1-month follow-up. Now seeing 20/20 in the right eye, 20/15 in the left. Two months until the next follow-up.
Continued in Part 9 -- Navy Shipyards
