Fried eyeballs

I did Lasik surgery in 2004. I'd been shortsighted since I was 8, but in my denial, delayed the spectacles for a year. I got my first pair of contacts when I was 14, out of vanity more than anything else. I never had very strong features, and spectacles just turned me from okay to plain dorky.

My contacts then cost me MYR500 a year. Considering how frugal my parents were, that was a small fortune. And after 5 years, I worked out it was cheaper to just to get Lasik done. Back then, it worked out to be:

Consultation (compulsory): MYR100
Surgery: MYR3,600
Sunglasses: RM100 (Moschino, bargain price)

You have to stop wearing contacts for two weeks before they can gauge the actual degree of your shortsightedness. For any vain college-going girl, this is the ultimate nightmare. My refraction error turned out to be a whopping 9.50 for each eye. Explained why I always had trouble finding my friends at the pool.

My mum and dad accompanied me there. The consultant gave me the green light to proceed (certain people with skinny corneas can't go through it). It took them about 7 hours to anaesthetize me. The happy potion they kept dripping into my eyes had another side effect - my muscles were relaxed; I basically lost my mind for that period of time, giggling inanely and babbling incoherently to all the other bewildered clinic patrons.

The surgery itself was quite painful, like the sore persistent kind. It was not unlike visiting the dentist, where the surgeon would have all sorts of nasty surprises every 2 minutes. First, they propped my eye open with this nasty vice-grip contraption. Then another whatchamacallit to hold the eyeball still. Then they took a mini SAW TO SLICE OFF MY CORNEA!!

Whatever they tell you about it not hurting, that's bullshit. It feels like... someone slicing off your cornea. Period.

As if that wasn't enough, they then shone this light in my eye. It's a blue light, and they ask you to focus on the red dot from where it shines. And I could smell burning flesh. And I could hear it.

Sizzlesizzlesizzle.

After that, I couldn't see very clearly. They then patched the cornea flap back, and sat me in a dark room. When I finally gained the courage lift my eyelids, the pain was searing. "How is it?" my doctor asked.

"Really painful." The tears were pouring.

This was clearly not the reply he was expecting. "That's too bad, you're too sensitive."

Clearly, sensitivity wasn't his forte.

To cut the story short, I spent a week recuperating, with blinders cupped over my eyes whenever I went to bed. And after a week, I could tell what time it was every morning without having to squint at the clock. However, I was extremely sensitive to light (even indoors) and had sunglasses on all the time like a paparazzi-fearing celebrity.

Four years on, I'd still say it's one of the best decisions I've ever made. I'm still slightly shortsighted, but not enough so that glasses are necessary. Might be time for a touch up though.

Let's hope my eyeballs don't explode the second time round.