The Eyes Have It

it's been less than 16 hours since my laser eye surgery, even though i can use the computer i've decided to be a bit more cautious and am wearing sunglasses, with the laptop screen all black and the Voice Over command turned on. if you've never used it before, it's a bit confusing as it spells each letter out as though the computer had turrets.

the first thing they did was give me valium. not unlike magic mushrooms, i felt fine til i got up. then when i sat down i sort of smiled at my mother in a doe-eyed fashion and played with her earrings. then i drooled on myself. none of the other patients there were taking it as bad. i guess for someone who passes out over a single panadol, it shouldn't be a surprise. "mum, i have spit on my jeans," and she said, "yes, hopefully that just makes me look like the dutiful mother of a challenged child. have you tried swallowing?" i wish the valium stage lasted longer but alas i was led into the surgery theatre where after lying down, i had to stare at the green light. it was slowing zooming in and out as though aliens were coming to anally probe me.

the guy explained every step in great detail, to my detriment. i had a dentist like him once.

"i am drilling into your 4th molar now. i am inserting a tube to drain your saliva now. i am injecting this long needle in now. i am wiping off some blood now." and all i could see were his eyes and felt like saying, "could you not tell me all the details?" i mean do you think the guy checking your prostate or your smear test is saying, "now i am spreading your legs apart. now i am inserting a spatula-like device into the small cavity that you used to poo/pee/give birth with, now i'm wriggling it about to collect tissue. now i'm putting lots of pressure on the most sensitive spot that even strippers in Amsterdam wouldn't go near, now i'm just checking the place's interior design." IT'S UNNECESSARY. oh i think this is hilarious. when you turn caps lock on the voice over, it actually yells your letters. haha. HAHA. sounds like "h-a-h-a-. ACHE! AYE! AHCHE! AYE!"

then they stuck a piece of plastic, clamped something over my eyelids, for which i was grateful because at that time all my limbs and muscles were clenched as tight as a virgin in the Australian Defence Force Academy. he wouldn't have been able to open them with the force of a CERN collider (ha, SEE-EE-ARR-ENNN!). something very hard was pressed til i blacked out. then the freakiest drill sound started.

the drilling of teeth sound! it was more disturbing than seeing your own corneal flap being lifted. that was actually pretty cool. a bit like going underwater. i felt like my flap should've been bigger (yep that's what she said) but could not protest before he adeptly lifted it up with the skill of a hungry japanese guy chopsticking up a piece of tuna. he was quick with his tiny tiny hooked instruments.

when it was finished i was reminded of that time i tried to impress this boy in primary school by doing two somersault turns on the monkey bars, and fell into a bunch of bark instead.

"i feel like i have sand in my eyes"
"that's normal"
"it's sandy"
"yes it feels like that"
"i like beaches" (the valium was still working)
"it will be gone tomorrow"
"sand doesn't taste good in your mouth OR your eyes"
"...no...they don't...*checks to see i have signed the consent forms where i said i was "Medically of Sound Mind*"


when we got to the car i must've passed out. i couldn't open my eyes and felt as though somebody was ramming their fingers in them. the painkillers were just making me drool some more. I had to wear sunnies because the lights hurt and that night also wear plastic cups over them so i wouldn't scratch at them. i feel like that should be in their blueprint.

"post-operative patients will resemble an intoxicated, frothy sloth with a speech impediment. you will have the photosensitivity of a vampire and the sleeping appearance of a giant fly"