FORT KENT, Maine — Pretty much all of us at one time or another have been told by our parents to stop doing something before we poke an eye out.
So I have to wonder what my own mom would think about deliberately shooting a bright, narrow laser beam directly into my eyeballs.
Which is exactly what I was doing earlier this month.
First, some background and context.
I’ve worn either glasses or contact lenses to correct my vision for reading and distance for more than 30 years.
Anyone who wears corrective lenses knows what a hassle it can be — albeit certainly better than stumbling through life with blurry vision.
And if you’re active, you can double the hassle factor.
Bicycling in the rain with glasses means stopping constantly to wipe off the lenses. Mushing dogs means stopping to clear frosted glasses. And how much fun is it to come in from the cold to a warm room and instantly fog up?
Contacts are great, but they need to be changed, cleaned and every so often will fly off an eyeball or — better yet — slide up and seemingly behind one’s eye and need to be gently tugged back out and repositioned.
Travels? Some years back I did some climbing in the Andes, and that required a pair of prescription dark glacier goggles.
More recent trips have meant juggling and keeping track of an impressive array of glasses for seeing distance, glasses for reading — one pair with contacts in, another with contacts out — and sunglasses.
This spring, at the suggestion of my friend Julie, I began to seriously consider correcting my ever-failing vision with laser-assisted in situ keratomileusis, known more commonly as LASIK surgery.
Basically, an ophthalmologist uses a laser to reshape the cornea and bring the eye to near perfect vision.
I’ll be the first to admit the idea of someone firing a laser in my eyes like Captain Kirk shooting a phaser at a Romulan gave me the chills, but after talking to numerous people who have had it done, I talked to my own eye doctor in Fort Kent about it.
According to Dr. Tim Rioux, I was the perfect candidate, and he referred me to the Eyecare Medical Group in Portland.
For one thing, Rioux does not do LASIK. For another, turns out, in my 54-plus years on this planet, I’d managed to avoid having my pupils dilated. So when he had to use a very, very bright light to look at enlarged eyes, well, safe to say I yelped and fussed more than his pediatric patients.
I think he was more than happy to send me south.
For three days in Portland, I was under the care of Dr. Adam Sise and his team. On the first visit he explained the process: Using a laser, he would make a series of small “perforations” around my cornea until he could gently — emphasis on gently — peel it back and out of the way, like a flap.
Using a different laser and based on a variety of measurements of my eyes he would take that same day, Sise would then reshape the cornea until, ideally, I’d have 20-20 or better vision. Then the flap would be placed back, and he would move on to the other eye and repeat the process.
All told, each eye would take less than 40 seconds of laser start to finish.
Day Two was the actual procedure, and I had been given a Valium to take before arrival to assure I was calm and relaxed pre-laser.
Wow, did that ever work. In fact, had I been more relaxed they could have classified me as a liquid.
Into the laser room I went, with Dr. Sise and his amazing team of Janice Shannon, Jean Proctor and Mark Keisman, all of whom played a part in what I was hoping would become my new super vision.
Thanks to the aforementioned Valium, I have very little memory of the procedure itself — other than some very bright green lights and buzzing sounds.
Once the actual procedure was complete, the team helped me up and out of the room and into the hallway, where for the first time in more than three decades I could see clearly.
It was sort of like looking through a fog bank, but sure enough I could read the clock over the nurses’ station, posters along the walls and even the titles of books lining a shelf. I was so happy, I was hugging everyone in sight.
Sise was used to that reaction and coupled it with a warning. “Everyone loves me now,” he said, “but in 30 minutes you are going to hate me.”
Outside — rocking a really snazzy pair of goggles to keep me from rubbing my eyes and risk dislodging the cornea flap — I was met by my friend Kim, who was in charge of getting me back to my hotel.
Given my drug-induced state, the proximity of the bus and train stations and my habit of wandering off at the best of times, it was a good thing she was there.
After she got me safely back to the room, patiently explained which eyedrops were which and when I needed to take them, she tucked me in and left me to sleep off the post-LASIK discomfort.
Dr. Sise was not kidding — I was starting to hate him. Once the numbing agents used during the procedure wore off, my eyes felt like someone had tossed handfuls of sand into them.
To get through this, I had been prescribed a single sleeping pill, which knocked me out for several hours.
When I woke up that evening, my sight was even clearer and my eyes felt way better — kind of like I had been swimming in chlorine.
That was just over a week ago, and I still need to wear the goggles for another day or two to keep from rubbing or poking myself in the eyes, but they are healing nicely.
LASIK is everything I had been told it would be — perfect vision, no glasses and immediate results.
The only downside? Wondering how long my friends will put up with me pointing out all the new things I can see.
Julia Bayly of Fort Kent is an award-winning writer and photographer, who writes part time for Bangor Daily News. Her column appears here every other Friday. She can be reached by email at jbayly@bangordailynews.com.
