I’m going to whine, so be warned.
Yesterday I had my 2 month checkup at the Lasik MD clinic where I had PRK laser surgery in February. You all know by now that it hasn’t been going all that well, so I was pretty ticked off walking in there.
At the front desk as I checked in 40 minutes early (I was mistaken about the time) I met someone checking in for her initial consultation. As I wasn’t wearing glasses, she eagerly asked me what I had had done, obviously expecting an equally chipper response. Well, she didn’t get it, obviously. I carefully said “PRK…” to which she said “Oh, and how did that go?”
Well, conundrum. Do I want to cause this woman to freak out and maybe not go through with whatever she’s in for, and at the same time distress the receptionist and the various techs milling around behind the desk?
Sure I do!
But I didn’t say what I wanted to say, and only smiled thinly and said, “You don’t want to know, actually. It’s been two months and I’m not a happy camper.”
Chipper’s (can I call you Chipper?) eyes suddenly turned saucer-shaped, and the receptionist quickly started a conversation with her to distract her. I walked out into the foyer instead of heading towards the waiting room, and Chipper’s buddy nonchalantly turned and came after me, as I knew she would.
Still I was very careful about what I said. I realize I’m not the typical scenario for laser surgery, and most people are very happy with their results. They wouldn’t be in business if it were otherwise. I told Chipper’s friend that whatever she turned out to be a candidate for, she should at the very least do some heavy duty reading about it, because the clinic staff are trained to be as vague as possible where “discomfort” and “recovery” are concerned. I did tell her about the pain I’d gone through, and that at the 2 month mark I was nowhere near where I should be. I gave her the address to my blog, too ;)
What do you know? My name was called about 90 seconds after I’d made my little announcement at the reception desk! Funny, I was pretty sure there were a dozen people ahead of me, and yet they decided I shouldn’t have to wait that 40 minutes until my appointment time. Go figure.
So I had my little checkup, at which time I made it very clear that I was unhappy, and at the end of my rope where recovery was concerned. My quality of life is suffering – the eye strain I get just trying to work and focus on my monitor is pretty extreme. Sure, I can see to drive just fine, but how much of my day is spent doing that? It’s the closer up tasks that I’m simply unable to do properly anymore. The girl doing my checkup took me for some extra scans, and said that while my eyes look “great”, she wanted another doctor’s opinion, and there might be something they could try.
So I had a seat in the waiting room. Right next to Chipper and her friend, in fact :) I waited for half an hour for the second doctor to be freed up to speak to me, and in that time, Chipper got my full story, as did all the other people in the area who were pretending not to listen. I wasn’t nasty about it – I held myself in check (are you proud of me? Should be… took a real effort!) and recounted the first week, how I was treated during the operation, and how traumatized I’d felt, and simply that I didn’t feel I’d been properly prepared for the aftermath. Turns out Chipper was not a candidate for Lasik OR PRK, and that they were going to do an implant instead. Like a cataract procedure, only she didn’t yet have cataracts. I told her that she should definitely go for it, the recovery would be far less of an issue for her, and her quality of life would improve.
So anyway, when this second doctor called me in (I was pretty sure he’d heard at least part of what I was saying to Chipper) he was pretty careful with me. He did some further scans, and then guess what he told me?
I’d been over-corrected. Now, instead of being myopic (near sighted), I am somewhat FAR SIGHTED, which accounts for the fact that I can’t focus on anything close to me. And also, some of the astigmatism was not corrected at all, which further exacerbates the issue. Oh, I’m just SO happy. So freaking, wonderfully, bloody happy. Can you tell?
So Dr. Dipstick decides that there is one thing we can try, and off he goes to find me some contacts. Gives me a prescription for healing eyedrops at the same time, says to try both for a week, and then come back.
“Oh, and by the way, this only works in about 50% of patients.”
“Oh, and if it doesn’t work, we’ll redo surgery at the 6 month mark and give you a ‘touch up’.”
“Oh, and I’ll put those contacts in for you right now.” Which he does, after first squirting his hands with PURELL hand sanitizer!
OH MY GOD.
I just don’t know how much more of this I can take.