When I was eight or nine years old and in the Third Grade at Indian Run Elementary in Dublin, Ohio, I distinctly remember one day being herded into a room (all kids had to go through this - there were 130 in my class at the time) and there was a stern nurse who had us look at an eye chart and read down the lines. Now this gal would have made Nurse Ratchett seem like Mother Teresa and she was, obviously NOT enjoying her stint with a bunch of squirrely little kids. So by the time I made it to her (my last name starting with a "W" - I was always near the end of the line), she was very short of temper.  I was scared to death of the damn witch.
     When she asked me to read the third line of the eye chart, I replied, "There is nothing there, Nurse." 
     Her temper flared and she replied, "I said read the letters on the chart, young man. NOW." 
     I replied, "There are no letters there. I don't see any chart." 
     At this she calmed down and asked me to read the top line. 
     I replied, "I don't know. I can't see anything." 
     Well folks, at that time my vision was 20/200. That basically means I couldn't see anything in clear focus anymore than 12" off my eyes! 
     So a note was sent home to my parents saying my eyes were bad. My Mom immediately made an appointment at the Riverside Hospital eye clinic (Dublin was a small town then and you had to drive into Columbus for anything medical or major) and away we went down Riverside Drive to the eye doctor. When I emerged I had a set of HUGELY  thick glasses on my face with plastic frames. No John Lennon stuff here - the frames were big, thick black and gray color with swirls. Not much fashion there.  I was a REAL chick magnet...   Oh boy...
     As my Mother often liked to tell later, when I stepped out into the parking lot of the hospital, I exclaimed, "Oh my gosh, Mom, everything is like a picture!" Ha!   The blind man finally saw! 
     So from that moment on, I got to know the eye doctor quite well. Within a week the glasses were in two - broken at the nose piece from some forgotten contact with something hard. And after that I went through all kinds of breaks wrestling, baseball, football (that was the worst offender), track, and of course friends or myself sitting on them. 
     And of course here came the rude comments that only single digit kids can make: "Coke Bottle Boy", "Four Eyes", "Blind Man",  "Professor", "Never hit a guy with glasses", etc. I braved them all, but it wasn't fun. In high school football they were a real pain under my helmet and they fogged up all the time and got busted weekly. 
     Once when hunting in PA, they fogged just as a big buck was coming by and I had to frantically wipe them before I could shoot. And in high school chicks didn't exactly dig them - like I said, they certainly weren't John Lennon cool... 
     Off to college I went with my thick glasses and was pleased to see quite a few of the Wyoming ranch kids had the same out of fashion frames. But it didn't take me long to figure out that I wasn't going to be dating the president of Kappa Kappa Gamma with these welding goggles (later I DID date her and she had a "glasses problem" as well, so we got a good laugh at that one!), so when I got some windfall money from home, I slipped down to the eye doctor in Laramie and said, "Fix me up with some contacts." 
     And so I emerged from that eye clinic with the newest phenomenon of the 1970's:  THE TINY HARD  CONTACT.  Now folks, I don't know if you have ever been to Wyoming before, but we have a saying there: "In Wyoming the wind doesn't blow, it sucks!" And with the wind (which NEVER quits) there is all kinds of nasty airborne particles - dust, pollen, sand, prairie tumbleweed material, stone pieces, dead horses, old houses, rattlesnake skins, rocks, etc.  I exaggerate, but rest assured if you were wearing contacts and went outside during one of these daily prairie storms from hell, you were going to your knees in blindness and pain!  And it's DRY as hell out there too which is the anti-thesis of wearing hard contacts...  Such was my life in Wyoming with those wretched hard lenses... I couldn't wait every day to pop them out and RUB my eyes! And all the time my eyes were so red it looked like I had just smoked a bale of dope... Not good. Total agony. But at least I got the dates with the good looking sorority girls! 
     Once I started teaching I drifted back to wearing glasses and alternating contacts once they started coming out with "softs". And until just last week I wore the super thin soft contacts for the last 20 years or so. Pain in the ass! Torture on planes, torture in non-sterile environments like an African bush camp or a duck blind in northern Canada or a spike camp in Wyoming. They just didn't fit my lifestyle. And if I had a nice looking girl over for the night, I'd have to roll over and put my thick glasses on in the morning and parade around the house like Mr. Magoo... Again, not sexy. Again, rather embarrassing... 
     OK, so I'm a list kinda guy. I write down these big lists of GOALS I want to accomplish and I do this daily, weekly, monthly, yearly and for decades. Old habit of mine that really works well. So one of the things I wrote down for 2010 was this: "Get eyes LASIK". Expensive - four large - but a "dream" of mine. Good-bye you damn coke-bottle glasses and contacts! 
     Back in November I got a new pair of glasses - the latest style - and I paid NINE HUNDRED DOLLARS FOR THEM! Yes, $900. I don't know how the figure got that out of hand, but I had them make me "thin" lens for them that turned out to not be so damn thin... Anyway, I couldn't see worth a damn with them and they were COKE BOTTLES again. One day I was wearing them and a customer said, "Hey there coke bottle guy". And I was right back to the sting of the nine-year old... 
     Within five minutes of that crack, I walked over to the phone and dialed LASIK-Plus in Independence and set-up an appointment to see if I was a candidate for LASIK. They made an appointment for me within three days. I said to myself, "Let's get this ball rolling." 
     In that three day period I had MUCH to think about. For years I had been quizzing my customers who had LASIK done on them and all but ONE loved it. But the guy who did NOT love it was BLIND for SIX MONTHS. SIX MONTHS. He went through hell and as luck would have it, he had just married a foreign gal and she didn't know any English, so the six months was really HORRIBLE for him... And he was a pretty young guy... So I kept thinking of that horror show he had... 
     Think about it: LASIK involves you being awake and a flap being cut and flipped up on your cornea and then a laser BURNING the tissue under the flap to your required focus. The object is to achieve 20/20 vision and complete healing. OK, the best laid plans of mice and men... Some do go astray... 
     But the majority of the five customers or so who had the procedure said that it was sublime and WONDERFUL. So hey, I'm a "glass half-full" kind of dude, so I tried to dwell on those pieces of sunshine, but damn, that other bad story hovered in my mind like dirty black icicles... Blind! Oh no... 
     So I traveled down Rt. 480 to LASIK-Plus and my examination yielded that my eyes were in excellent health and could take the treatment. The price: $4000. And they could do the procedure in five minutes! Would I like to pay and then step RIGHT NOW into the operating room and have the procedure done?  I said, "Oh no sireee!"  I needed to think of this "eye burning".  A laser indeed... Hmmm... My guts suddenly turned to ice cream.  Panic hit me like a sledge-hammer - I had not considered this option. So much, so quick.  NOT TODAY, JOSE! 
     I spoke with the doctor some more and asked him some very detailed questions in which he answered promptly and honestly. He said I could be back to work by the next day if the procedure went well. I glommed onto that little word "if" and that frightened me... But as I approached the front desk on my way out, I stopped in front of one of the nurses and said bravely, "Schedule me an appointment for LASIK." 
     And so it was. On the day of my surgery (last Tuesday), I was required to come with a driver.  As I waited in the driveway for her to pick me up, I looked one last time at my beloved dogs, my little swamp house and the river bottom - perhaps half thinking I would never gaze on them again...  Alas!  A dying man's last wishes, but this time a soon-to-be BLIND MAN'S last wishes...   Anyway, I selected a most-trusted girlfriend who had quite a history with LASIK. As a girl of eight, she had gone blind for nearly two months due to a rare disease. It was horrifying for her as you can imagine. Her eyes had problems for over 40 years and she wore thick glasses. Finally one of the LASIK doctors told her that the procedure could give her 20/20 vision, so after YEARS of debating and FEAR she did it two years ago. Her fear was so intense that for quite a time she laid on the operating table paralyzed with anxiety attacks and nearly passing out - so fearful she was of being put back into the darkness. So all of this was dancing in my head as I made my way to the prep room last Tuesday. So now I had two negative experiences about the LASIK procedure - I pushed them from my mind and soldiered on. 
     I needed to steel my composure because the six-page RELEASE I had to sign was a HORROR SHOW. What I was indemnifying the eye surgeons over was a list of "complications" that could happen if I proceeded with the LASIK treatment: Total blindness, double-vision, intense infections, the need to get LASIK done over and over again for good results, the fact that the procedure may still make me have to wear glasses and/or a special contact, night blindness, halos on night lights, etc. SIX PAGES of complications! That list gave me a cold ice cube in my guts... All of this I thought about as I stepped into the clinic last Tuesday. BUT I WANTED TO SEE NORMALLY AGAIN - that was the driving force. 
     In the prep room the nurse remapped my eyes (I had to have my contacts out for eight days before the procedure so the corneas would return to normal and not be irritated) and she explained exactly what would happen in the OR. She said I'd be on the operating table for about 10-12 minutes. Are you doing the math? $4000 !!! The surgeon is making $7 a SECOND. That's a good wage today in the good old USA. Ain't no recession in his orbit! I asked the nurse how many procedures would be done on Tuesday and she said, "Four". I was the first. The surgeon was rested two days because he was off Sunday and Monday. That's the way I planned it! The nurse said on Friday, however, they were going to do 23 procedures! OK, get your calculator out - that's a $92,000 gross for the clinic in one day!   The businessman part of me says that's a "damn good bunch of cash flow!" Yee hawww! You and I are in the wrong business, kids. However, I would NOT want my eyes done on a Friday - too many clients! I rechecked my name badge they placed on my chest - just to be sure. 
     So the nurse said, "Do you want a sedative?" 
     I go, "Hell yeah". She laughed. I said, "What you got?  Morophine?  Heroin?  Cocaine?  25 Darvons?  What?"  She laughed again. 
     She goes, "You're a funny guy.  I can offer you Tylenol PM or a valium." 
     I've never taken either, but I know that a valium is a trank, so I figured it would help me sleep later. So I said, "Give me a couple of valiums." She gave me one. I slammed it down. 
     They gave me the option of having my companion watch the procedure from the OR lounge. She said she'd like to see it. I figured it was good to have a witness if anything went wrong (easier to sue that way - hey, that's the lawyer in me talking now). So she was allowed to sit in the operating room lounge and she could see the whole procedure via two TV screens. Pretty cool. 
     They put a hair net on me and I followed the doctor and two nurses into the glass-lined operating room. Pretty scary, but I had steeled myself. At my request, they opened the shades of the OR so everything could be seen by my companion. No one else was around. I had already paid, signed my release and there was no backing out now (but I wanted to!). At this point, I was thinking: "Oh hell, glasses and contacts aren't so bad after all. I could get my money back and go on one helluva cruise with my lovely girlfriend!" All kinds of escape mechanisms started machine-gunning at my "sensible" side... 
     The doctor waved me down into a chair and he looked deeply into my eyes with lighted microscopes. Then he came around beside me and told me to tilt my head back as far as it would go. He put numbing drops in both of my eyes. No problem. He waited one minute and then came up to me and pulled my eyelids up and took a fine-tipped magic marker and put a DOT on each one of my eyes! Never felt a thing! (Hint: Do not try this at home!). Very freaky. But things were very quickly going to surpass freaky and get surreal... 
     Then they (the doctor and two nurses) took me to a HUGE machine and had me lay down on a firm surface with my head tilted down a bit. Then it got weird. A big swinging machine was placed over my face and part way down my chest. It's here your body's auto-reflexes of "flight from danger" start to take over. Your blood pressure goes up, your heart pumps at the sign of danger ("Look out! Saber tooth tiger on the right! Charging T-Rex on the left!) and your breathing goes all funny. It's RIGHT NOW when you want to call it off. And damn, that tiny valium was NOT working. Not at all. It was raw dog on this adventure... Oh my...  Katie bar the door!  No prisoners on this forced march!
     But I was very, very calm. I simply laced my fingers together and placed my hands on my chest. As I felt the panic start, I began relaxation techniques I'd long used before public speaking or other nerve wracking activities (like getting the guts up to kiss a pretty girl or slay a dangerous African beast, etc.) - I breathed very deeply and thought wonderful thoughts like embracing my girlfriend or petting my puppy or taking a long walk along the river with the sun warming my face. Works every time and it worked well here. 
     But what was especially soothing was the surgeon's voice. The man - Dr. Thomas - is a PRO. His OR mannerisms were very calming. He was exact in his speech. He told me to stare at a red light as he worked. He never used the word "cutting a flap" or anything panic inducing like that, but he did say for a while the "red light will go away". AND I AIN'T NO DUMMY, I KNEW THAT MEANT I WOULD GO BLIND FOR A FEW SECONDS! Holy darkness, Batman! 
     So I stared at the light while the nurses called out numbers to him. I searched and searched for nervousness in their voices, but I found none. 
     After a while the doctor said, "Scott, I'm going to put a wire apparatus to prop your eyelids open while we work. We'll we putting drops in your eyes during the procedure so they do not dry out." OK, this set me off a bit because goddamnit, I'VE SEEN THE KUBRICK MOVIE OF 'CLOCKWORK ORANGE' AND THAT WAS HORRIFYING - YOU KNOW OLD ALEX WITH HIS PEEPERS WIRED OPEN FORCED TO WATCH ALL OF THAT VIOLENCE."  I again put the relaxation techniques to use and mentally I hugged my girlfriend over and over and petted the dog a couple of dozens times... It was getting intense now. MY DAMN EYES WERE GOING TO GET CUT. Digest that one, will ya...  Put that in your pipe and smoke it...  That thought will clean your liver out...
     I stared at the red light and all around in whatever contraption was over me.  They kept telling me to be very still and not move.  There was a GALAXY of lights - it looked like I was in orbit somewhere. Claustrophobic feeling set in and I felt a bit of that panic, but I fought it off. My overall outside demeanor was of TOTAL CALM (I don't know what my eyes were betraying, but the doctor did not comment on it and later my companion said I did perfectly and that I was totally calm). About this time I wished I had snagged the whole vial of valium and was on some "trip without leaving the farm". But alas, I was out there on my own. Ain't that how it always is? 
     So here I am with my damn eyelids propped WIDE OPEN like Alex's in "Clockwork Orange" and I'm IN LAND OF NO RETURN.  LASIK IS GONNA HAPPEN TO ME.  I thought briefly of the two blind people I knew. I thought briefly of the damnable release where I signed my rights away. I shrugged the negativity off and soldiered on. I ain't the prayin' type, so I didn't ask for any help from above or below or where ever these powers are supposed to be (besides the people in Haiti I figured had a corner on that market last week and needed HIM more than me anyway...). 
     So here's where the going got tough:  I saw a shadow go across my right eye and then EVERYTHING WENT BLACK.   I WAS BLIND!   I didn't panic, I actually relaxed more. Then there was a HUGE suction on my eyeball and the nurses called out more numbers to the good doctor. 
     Dr. Thomas said, "Everything is perfect. You're doing great. The procedure is perfect." That let me relax more, but I was very aware my right eye was CUT at that moment. My companion said a little scalpel type knife went across my right eye and she actually saw the flap come up - she said it look like Sahran Wrap or something. Oh great... Then they did the same thing to my left eye. Elapsed time: Less than ten minutes for sure. Dr. Thomas was good at calling out the times to me: He'd say, "OK Scott, just 30 seconds here. Now 10 seconds." No pain at all. They told me to stand up. I had some vision, so I didn't go blind. This is good, I thought. Nobody was rushing around like their hair was on fire, so I figured all was well.   
     Then they moved me to another machine. Before I laid down again I gave my companion the "thumbs up" sign (that was more for me than her, but I didn't tell). This is where the laser comes in and here is where the burning of the eyes occurs. It gets weird now. I laid back down and here came another big machine down over me. By now I know I'm close to home. Again they wired open my eye one by one - Dr. Thomas does that with so much dexterity it's poetry-in-motion to witness (there ought to be an Olympic event for this) and I stared at the red light and the galaxy of light again. I had sight!
Then the burning part. Remember how LASIK works: They cut a flap of the cornea and then they BURN the cornea surface underneath to the exact prescription you need, then put the flap back over and let it heal. So somehow they lifted the flap and the laser went to work on the tissue burning it the exact curvature so we can achieve 20/20 vision. Essentially Dr. Thomas was undoing the vile work of Mother Nature and cheating her a bit. No more "Coke Bottle!" taunts for this guy! $4000 and I'm gonna be normal, baby! 
     So as the laser worked, it make a loud tapping noise (again no pain because of the numbing drops) and then it became very FREAKY because you SMELL the smoke coming off your eyes. Now folks, it is a smell you're going to remember FOREVER.  It is very, very weird smelling. The smell is STILL in my nose. I hope one day that it will leave me. I once smelled a house where ten people burned up inside and I didn't forget that smell either... Kinda like that... YOUR EYE FLESH IS BURNING.   Sorry, but no pretty way to say it.  Buck up, cowboy... 
     And then, suddenly IT WAS OVER. They removed the machine from over top me and told me to stand up. Upon standing I first looked at my companion and gave her the "thumbs up". Dr. Thomas said, "Scott, you were an excellent patient. The procedure went very well." 
     My vision was completely blurry, but acceptable - certainly better than when I took my glasses off previously. There was some haze on the outer fringes. Everything was somewhat foggy and a bit like I was looking through an aquarium or a foggy window. I had read all of the supporting literature on the procedure (which was very good by the way) and was ready for this. That type of blurry vision is exactly correct for that time period of recovery and the documents said it would get better and better. One must remember that the cornea has a remarkable healing power - very fast. I shall soon relate just how fast that really is. 
     The doctor was all smiles and that was reassuring. He quickly placed dark sunglasses on me and said to keep those on at all times - even when I slept. I thanked everyone and stepped out of the OR and into the lounge. My companion had my coat and my little bag of water and painkillers. 
     They led me into an examination room and the doctor looked at my eyes again with an eye microscope and said everything was very nice. I got some instructions for the rest of the day and it was stressed that they wanted me to SLEEP for five hours and not move and NOT rub my eyes. At this point my eyes felt great, but that was because of the numbing drops. Dr. Thomas said, "After an hour you'll really feel it." He looked over at my companion and said, "An hour." They knew something I didn't... 
     I went out into the main waiting room and the girl at the counter looked and me and I said loudly, "I am reborn, sister!" That got some laughs. The nurse at the counter said, "It's best to keep your eyes shut on the ride home." Never were more truer words spoken... 
     We went out outside and got into the car. I leaned the seat back and clamped my eyes shut. No problem. After about 35 minutes all hell broke loose. Truly my eyeballs felt like they were shredded behind my eyelids. I knew a shitstorm was coming. I reached down to the floor of the car and got my Tylenols out and slammed down two big ones with plenty of water. 40 minutes and the pain started. 45 minutes and I was not able to open my eyes at all and when I did the light hit me like hot dirty knives - it was like an Iraqi sandstorm was in my eyes!  I was suddenly living the life of a vampire!  I was like Superman hugging krytonite (sp?)! Ha! 
     I slammed my eyelids shut and steeled myself in the seat. I longed for DARKNESS and no MOVEMENT. Right about this time my companion informed me that she'd missed the Rt. 422 exit and we were headed for Youngstown on Rt. 480.  NOT GOOD NEWS in the state I was in.  I took another Tylenol.  This whole ordeal was beginning to seem a lot like hand-sorting wolverines...
     I said, "Darling, I can't help you on the road signs, I can't get my eyes open." We drove and drove. Finally we hit Rt. 44. "Head her north, girlfriend! I'm huntin' a warm bed in a dark room!" 
     Finally we pulled up to the homestead and my companion helped me out of the car. I was pretty blind by now and just barely peaked out of my eyelids so I didn't bust my ass on the sidewalk ice leading up to my door. That damn valium was making me feel a bit drunk and I was pretty wobbly. I was drowsy a bit which was good. I got the keys out, opened the door and we went into my living room.  Now I'm not the sharpest hoe in the shed, but I had a "sick bed" all set and ready to go. My sick bed was the couch in the living room and I had two fluffy pillows from my guest bed and two huge quilts and a fleece throw. With my eyes firmly shut, I unlaced my boots and laid right down and threw the quilts over me. My companion helped arrange them on me. The light was killing me from the bay window, so I put my arm over my face and that helped.  I still had the sunglasses on. 
     My companion put my water bottles, painkillers and the phone on the floor so I could easily reach them from the couch. She asked if she wanted me to stay, but I said go on because I wanted to sleep. I think at this time the valium and pain-killers were all kicked in nicely and I felt like a long sleep. It was about 12:45 pm or so. The procedure was over at 11:30 am. My companion gave me a peck on the forehead and wished me well. The last thing I remember was her shutting the door. 
     I woke up about 5:30 pm or so and it was just getting dark. I stood up and went to the back bay windows of my kitchen that look out over the swamp and river bottom.  BY GOD I COULD SEE EVERYTHING PERFECTLY!!!   IT WAS A MIRACLE!   I HAD 20/20 VISION FOR SURE!  The trees of the river bottom were perfectly in focus and I could see more sharply than any time in my life! 
     What's more:  THERE WAS NO PAIN!  The pain had gone away in that five-hour nap. There was no need for any more Tylenol and I haven't taken any more since that morning of the surgery. Even the valium had worn off and I was walking straight. I was a bit hungry, so I figured that was a good sign. I switched on the kitchen light and it didn't bother me at all. I put on my reading glasses and looked at a letter and everything was clear! Yee haawww! 
     The sensation I had in my eyes was that I had a dirty or dry contact in and I wanted to take it out and rub my eyes.  BUT YOU MUST NOT RUB AT THIS POINT!  Rubbing the eyes could dislodge the flap and that is bad, bad, bad. So I just sat in the chair in the living room and let the day get dark. I felt fine, I really did. I wanted to rub my eyes, but I dared not. I started the eye drops and I had a chart to help me with this. There were three eyes drops - one vial of anti-biotics, another for reduced inflammation and then dozens of little squeeze vials for wetness. They felt good when I put them in. 
     I kept looking around the room and touching my face to make sure I really didn't have my glasses on! I kept yelling over and over again: "Yeah baby! Yessirreee!" I was absolutely in a euphoric condition - high as a bat and soooo very happy! This was monumental. A MAJOR life-changing moment. I was dancing around the house and testing my sight on the dogs outside and the moon and the distant trees. And it was working!   FOR THE FIRST TIME IN OVER 50 YEARS I WAS SEEING 20/20 WITH MY OWN EYES!  Then I figured I'd better calm down, so I sat back in the chair and called my Dad and few friends who were interested in the outcome. About 9 pm or so, Dr. Thomas called and I told him the good news. He said my vision would continue to IMPROVE and by morning I would be fine. He said the procedure went very well and that I was a good patient. He said he looked forward to seeing me in the morning for a post-op check-up. Now I was really happy! 
     Look, when you have 20/200 vision, you can't see a DAMN thing with your own eyes. Nada. No way could I drive. No way would it be safe to be outside without glasses or contacts. And I started thinking that if I was to get into a survival situation in Africa, Alaska or Canada or even along the watershed here, I would not be able to see to find my way out or be rescued or whatever. So it was time to spend the big bucks and get this done right. 
     By morning I felt quite good. Yes, my eyes felt a bit "sandy" and/or like dirty/dry contacts that needed to come out, but I was fine to drive back to the clinic and have Dr. Thomas look at my eyes and see how the operation "took". I wore my trusty sunglasses and drove over to Independence to the clinic. They said I was fine, but to take it easy.  I read the bottom line of the eye chart, so I was 20/20 in 24 hours!  If only old Nurse Ratchett could see me now! 
     I drove all the way back and thought, "I'll just stop for a few minutes and see how the guys are doing running the store in my absence." Oh boy... So I thought I'd play a little trick on them. I got a broomstick from the back of my truck and I entered the store with a big loud clatter at the door. I had my thick "blind-man" sunglasses on. The store was jammed with customers getting their auction firearms - all guys and gals I knew. I was sure they had asked where I was and Shane had told them I just had eye surgery. Once in the door I acted like I was blind and tapped the stick against the show cases. The whole store stopped what they were doing and stared at me. You could have heard a pin drop!
I acted like I tripped over the carpet and went down on my knees. Then I swayed back and forth and acted like I fell against the book case and drug a couple of books to the floor. 
     Shane yelled out, "You all right?" 
     I said, "Shane? Is that you? Where are you?"  Then I hobbled up to him at the counter all the time tapping the stick against obstructions. The customers started stepping back. When I got to Shane, I ripped off the sunglasses and burst out laughing. 12 hours later I was still there working. So much for relaxation... 
     Now it's been almost a week and I have wonderful vision - best I've ever had. I shall repeat my former line:  "I feel reborn!"  I still have to have drops every hour, but that ends in next day or two. I can't wait to shoot with this new vision. 
     If any of you are interested in speaking further about this, give me a call or write. I can tell you more of my experience with Lasik-Plus and I have some coupons for them. What a journey! Yee haw!