A Bright Start to November

Things are looking better than ever these days, thanks to the thoughtful precision and care of Dr. Kim, who performed laser surgery on my eyes on November 1. I'd been wanting to have the procedure for the last six or seven weeks because I was having trouble wearing contact lenses in the dry weather (particularly so in Daegu). Saturday morning at 9 I went in for the procedure, and after doing some final tests to measure the angle of my right eye's astigmatism, I was led to the operating room. As I reclined on the bed, breathing deeply and thinking about the sight to come, I heard an unusual amount of dialogue between the doctor and the nurse. The whispering continued long enough for me to doze off momentarily, and when I awoke the doctor was over me explaining that some small error had occured with the machine and that a repairman from another city was coming bearing a special tool with him. So, I had to get up, go for lunch, and come back a few hours later, but I didn't mind. The surgery itself has a few unnerving parts (not counting the self-fashioned fear of permanently losing your sight). First, there is the notion that you have to be awake the entire time looking at a blinking red light, and that the success of the surgery partly depends on your ability to stay focused on that light. The second, and by far the scarier for me, is that you have to endure a temporary loss of vision in the eye that is being operated on. The unoperated eye is carefully covered by layers of protective surgical armor, rendering sight from it useless. So, as you peer at the red blinking light from the other eye, suddenly the doctor initiates a phase of the procedure that magically erases all sight--for five to six seconds you are completely blind. During this time there is a panic sensation accompanied by the background whirring noise of a machine completing some integral part of the surgical process. A tertiary inconvenience, the deluge of eye drops drained into your eyes, can seem overwhelming, but that is a small inconvenience compared to the instructions afterwards: you cannot open your eyes for the next hour, and at the same time you must not shut them tightly. After I was guided to the recovery room, I rested as peacefully as possible despite the feeling that there were several grains of sand rolling around in my eyes and concrete sealing the corners of my eyes. Thankfully I had a good friend with me to help me relax and not squeeze my eyes shut. Once I received an okay from the doctor to go home, and instructions for the next few days to drink copious amounts of potable water and instill drops into my eyes with hourly regularity while not leaving my apartment for two days, I was discharged. My friend guided me home, prepared a meal, and gently coaxed me into obeying all of the doctor's directives, all while I felt like scratching out my eyes and crying at the same time. But it wasn't long before the pain subsided and I began to feel better. By the time I went to bed, I began to feel I could see mostly clearly, and by Sunday morning, my vision was completely restored. Now when I look around it is as though I'm wearing my glasses or contacts but there is nothing there--it is a wonderful feeling, completely worth one Saturday of my life. I know my description may seem a bit like a deterrent to the surgery, but I wanted to relate an honest telling of my experiences with it. After the day passed, I can see that it was definitely the right decision.

Other news from the week? Well, Halloween was Friday. There was a party at work, but I didn't dress up because I still had to teach my classes and I had to go to sleep early for my surgery the next morning. Koreans don't recognize the holiday, so it didn't matter much to anyone else. I made lots of progress on my reading of Harold Bloom's How to Read and Why, of which the poetry section particularly spoke to me, and I bought Jhumpa Lahiri's Pulizter-Prize winning collection of short stories, Interpreter of Maladies, although I've only read the first story. Bloom's choices of poets and poems are surprisingly potent, though I found his suggestions a bit short and wish there was more to them. Anyhow, it gave me an impetus to put more energy into the labor that is reading great poetry. I don't consider myself capable of writing good poetry, but I certainly enjoy it. Instead, I'm seriously considering penning a few short stories and creating a collection similar to what Lahiri has done, so we'll see how that idea goes.

The surgery was cheaper than expected, which will allow me to spend a little more on a nice winter jacket. Winter jackets are far more expensive than I expected, so barring a little haggling at an outlet-type place, I'm just going to have to shell out the necessary funds to stay warm over the next few months. I'm sure it'll be worth it, but I just hate paying a lot of money for clothes.

I made a good friend recently. I'm more impressed by her each day. She has a gift for intuition and a unique perception that I find endearing and fascinating. She's also quite intelligent, fun, skilled at joining and starting meaningful conversation, and, perhaps most importantly, she understands me like few do. I'll leave it at that for now. =)