Here’s a full recounting, then:
My father and I arrived at the hospital at about 9:00 AM. They ran through the refraction procedure first, to verify that I hadn’t undergone any last-minute changes.
Then they gave me numbing drops, and the doctor made an alignment mark on each of my eyes with a pen. We waited a few minutes for the drops to take effect, then they led me to the next station.
The next station was where they cut the flaps. They had me lie down on a fairly comfy table, and a nurse plopped a teddy bear on my chest in case I didn’t feel silly enough. They taped a bit of light gauze over my left eye, then used more tape to keep the eyelashes on my right eye out of the way as they propped it open. The eye-holding-open widget is quite small, but it felt huge; there wasn’t any pain, but it felt distinctly odd, and my blink reflex got a workout.
Once my eye was clamped open, they slowly lowered the cutter down onto it. There was a moment of crazy-swirly lights you get when you put pressure on your eye, then my vision went dark briefly from the pressure. The laser cut the flap, they retracted the machine, unpropped my eyelid, and repeated the process on my left eye.
At this point, my vision was a big foggy. My eyes didn’t hurt, but I wasn’t inclined to keep them open. They left me to rest for about five minutes as the flaps settled. I’m told the laser causes small bubbles as it’s cutting the flap, and the wait is to allow those to be reabsorbed. I fished my DS out of my pocket and listened to some mp3s while I waited.
After a few minutes of rest, they came to fetch me. I could see well enough to walk to the next table and lie down on it. They pivoted the table to place me under the main laser to check positioning, then swung me back out and had me shift over a bit while they raised the table slightly. Then they repeated the gauze-tape-eyelid clamping rigamarole, with the addition of a little suction hose and an irrigation line on the clamped eye, moved the flap (at which point I could no longer see anything but blurs), and swung me back into place.
There were some minor adjustments, then I was admonished to keep my eye fixed on the flashing orange light. The laser made a loud chattering noise while it was active, and there was a sharp, distinctive odor–I’ve read stories like mine where people said it smelled like anything from roasting meat to burning cat hair, but all I smelled was ozone. In less than a minute, it was done with that eye, and they swung me back out again.
Next, I got to lie there for about 5 minutes while the doctor used a tool like a teeny-tiny squeegee to smooth the flap back into place and let it settle. I commented that it tickled a bit, and they gave me more numbing drops. I could actually see fairly well out the eye at that point, when the doctor’s hand wasn’t in the way–everything was foggy, but my acuity was better than it had ever been without glasses or contacts. The other staff members in attendance were teasing one of the nurses about her plans to get Botox injections, and I tossed in a comment or two.
After the doc was satisfied with the flap, they covered that eye, and I went in for round two. It was a bit different, because my vision in my left eye has always been much, much worse than my right. When they told me to look for the orange light, I had serious trouble finding it–the orange flashes blurred across my whole field of vision. I eventually picked out the center, the laser started up, and I had the most surreal experience of the whole affair–I got to watch my eyesight improving. It hadn’t registered with my right eye, but as the laser worked, I saw the flashing light coming steadily into sharper focus. When it was crystal-clear to me, the laser shut down, and they swung me back out again.
More squeegeeing, more jokes, another round of eyedrops, and then I was back on my feet. We traipsed back into the other room and they ran me through yet another refraction, which indicated that my eyesight was roughly 20/30. They gave me a little care package with antibiotic drops, steroid drops, artificial tears, goggles, a few painkillers (vicodin, I think), and the doc’s cell number. I was done before noon.
I was very, very light-sensitive, and there was still a haze over my vision, but I toddled off to the parking lot and climbed into the car, and my father drove me home. It took about an hour, and the numbing drops wore off about halfway. My eyes were very achy, and I couldn’t keep them open, so I didn’t try. I managed to pry them open to stumble up the stairs to my apartment. I popped some ibuprofen, put on the little goggles from my bag, and flopped down on the couch to nap. Then I got up and found my big, comfy mad scientist goggles because the little ones were irritating as hell. I didn’t touch the vicodin. Most painkillers don’t work right on me–they don’t help the pain, and they make me twitchy and paranoid.
Suitably accoutred, I slept until nearly supper time, at which point I was awakened by dripping water inside my goggles. My eyes had watered heavily and the tears had evaporated and condensed on the lenses, then started dripping. My eyes were sore, but I could hold them open again, and even check my email (although I had to turn the brightness way down on my monitor). I put antibiotic and steroid drops in my eyes, had some supper, put my goggles back on, and went to bed.
When I woke up the next morning, I was still pretty light-sensitive, but otherwise doing well. Dad drove me to my eye doctor for the next-day followup, and my vision had reached 20/25. There was still a faint haze, and everything looked like it was glowing from inside, but I could see better than I ever had without aid. I could have gone to work if I’d had to, but I made a point of scheduling the procedure on a Friday, just in case.
I didn’t have any significant discomfort after that, and my vision was up to 20/20 within a week. I didn’t need the artificial tears at all, but I put the other drops in faithfully. I hated the prednisone (steroid) drops, because they were milky, and they left a white haze on my vision for a long time after I used them. After a week and another followup, my doc said I could taper off the drops, because the flaps had healed. There was a brief scare when he thought he saw a clump of epithelial cells under the flap in my left eye (which would require lifting the flap again to clean them out), but it turned out to be a bit of oil from lachrymal fluid, which didn’t affect my vision and would eventually go away on its own.
Four months on, I’m still at 20/20, don’t have any halo or glare problems (which I had even with contact lenses), and don’t suffer from dry eyes. I’m glad I had it done.