What do you call a deer with no eyes?

I’m not sure if I have talked about it much – but I have had really awful long distance vision since I was a teenager. Well, it didn’t start “awful”, but by the time I hit my mid-twenties, I was quite badly short sighted.

I suppose I didn’t really notice how bad it had become until probably… 2016. Stocker and I had traveled to Japan for the first time as a couple and it was my first experience night riding. Without the prescription sunglasses I used during the day, I had serious problems seeing other people, obstacles and even the terrain in general. Don’t get me wrong – I still had a wonderful time and we have revisited since – but I do feel, strongly that there was a lot I missed out on.

I had trouble fitting my prescription into goggles coupled with my claustrophobia being completely manic from having that much tight fitting stuff on my head. So, I suppose it was that trip that started the discussion about eye surgery.

I’m sure everyone can math as well as I can – that was 5 years ago. Yep, 5 years. In between, we had a jaw to fix, bits falling off our house and a lot of travel (that I will never apologise again for after 2020).

I need to make this clear. I want to have better eyesight – but I really, really object to the thought of someone touching my eyes. As in. It maxes out my anxiety.

If we’re being honest with each other (and if I can’t be honest with you, who can I be honest with), I have made a litany of excuses to avoid even having the discussion. Because I am terrified.

I have used the cost as a real crutch here. I looked up round figures – and it looked like it would be between $10k-$11k for both eyes. With other expenses coming up pretty continuously, “we can’t afford it”, and worked for me, and worked well.

After the purchase of Stocker’s car in January however… I ran out of excuses. Literally.

I was one of those weirdos that asked anonymously for reviews over an online forum, after reading reviews for all the suggestions thoroughly, I decided on the Eye and Laser Centre in Southport. Three weeks ago I rang and spoke to an amazing medical receptionist who was responsible for getting me through the doors this afternoon. Initially I wanted to give her a prize – right now, I was to scream “witch” while holding a pitchfork. You see, not only did she get me through the door, but she booked me in for SMILE laser eye surgery…. tomorrow.

When we discussed a date weeks in the future, I was a little hesitant, I could already feel my brain backing out. She looked at me, looked at Stocker, went out the back then said “how about tomorrow”. Gulp. Seriously? Yes, seriously.

I anxiously called my employer, who laughed and said “you sure you want to do that – cause I can get you out of it, right now”. I agreed that it was necessary and “ripping it off like a bandaid” was the only way I was ever going to follow through with it.

I hung up the phone, took my preoperative paperwork, which I immediately passed to Stocker – because I didn’t want to know, and left directly for RW’s place.

A very nice Ravioli and a bottle of wine later, I’m laying in bed, awake of course, because, terror. Wondering what the hell I’ve just gotten myself into?

I have purposely not read any of the paperwork because I know it will terrify me.

Tomorrow I am having eye surgery. Where the hell is my Valium?

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