My Epi-Lasik Eye Surgery

As I was packing for my business trip last night, I was able to leave behind items that I have had to pack in the last 25 years of my life: contact case, solution, back-up lens and glasses.

I had an Epi-lasik procedure done around three weeks ago to correct my nearsightedness. Prior to the surgery, my myopia clocked in at around 20/300, meaning that I was beyond legally blind. While I had been able to get by with contact lens and glasses, my dependence on these "artificial eyes" exploded into a full-blown frustration for me during my trip to Cancun last year. I had realized that I forgot to pack my contact case, but naively thought that the resort would carry stuff for the visually-challenged, forgetful lots like me. Turns out they had everything but contact stuff. Want to freshen your breath?—No problem; they have gum, mint, mouth wash, you name it. Want to reap the benefits of minty-fresh breath and a great tan?—They've got you covered with condoms of all formats and sizes. But you forget your contact lens?—You are s*&t out of luck. I ended up having to improvise with a few bottle caps; it’s a wonder that I didn't end up with any form of conjunctivitis.

Despite my absolute glee about no longer having to wear glasses and lenses, the recovery process has been long and challenging. In fact, I have a long way to go, since the words that I type are still somewhat blurry.

To go into why things have been blurry for so long, I probably need to briefly explain the Epi-lasik procedure. It is performed for folks who are not good candidates for the basic Lasik procedure, and unlike its more popular sibling, the Epi-Lasik demands a much longer healing time. The doctor removes the entire top layer of your eyes before lasering them down to the right shape, and afterwards, you have to wait for your eyes to slowly heal. The healing process takes anywhere between a month to six months, and I've had many moments of despair in which I've searched the inter-web to find testimonials, blogs, anything to make me believe that I will have a perfect 20/20 vision in a few months. I thought I would chronicle my own experience as well, so that I can (hopefully) look back on this in the near future and realize that I just needed to be more patient through the healing process.

Days 1 – 3 after the surgery 

My daily routine went something like this:

• Wake up. Eat some food. Take my pain meds, administer three different types of eye drops. 
• Listen to my Dances with Dragons audio book before dozing off. 
• Wake up 20 minutes later to find that I had slept through the last chapter of the book. Rewind, fall back asleep for three hours. 
• Wake up, say hello to family, repeat the cycle.

They made me wear these crazy eye-shields while I slept so that I wouldn't inadvertently scratch my eyes out. EB was completely creep-ed out every time I wore the shields. She thought that the little air-holes made me look like some creepy she-fly.

Look, Mom--I'm a fly

For the most part, I did not feel much pain. The worst was on the morning of day 2, when my light sensitivity was so bad that it felt like someone was shining the power of 300 volt football stadium lights into my eye sockets. The sensation went away 20 minutes after I took my pain meds – nothing a little cocktail of Demerol couldn't fix.

This is how I looked about 15 min after Demerol

Day 4 after the surgery

I felt no more pain, and stopped taking my pain killers altogether. I was to have my first post-op the next morning, and if all went well, I would be able to drive myself back to work. That night, I made the mistake of popping open my laptop to see how well I could see. Holy crap – everything was blurry. I had to enable the visually impaired function and blow up everything to around 20 point font. Discouraged, I closed my laptop and decided to call it a night. 

Day 5 after the surgery

Although I saw doubles of everything, I tested 20/40, and got the green-light to drive myself back to work. In the bright outdoors, everything looked crystal-clear but once I entered the office, it was almost as if the office was slightly fogged over. Starring at laptop for any period of time was a challenge, and I found myself reaching for my rewetting drops once every two minutes, making me look like I was constantly dripping tears -- not a good look at all.

Weeks 2-3 after the surgery

While my visions have gotten better over time, I am still seeing overlaps of letters. I have gotten used to working with super-sized fonts, to my co-workers’ continued bemusement. At the end of the third week, I went back to my eye doctor, and was bummed to learn that my vision had not improved since he last saw me. He told me that the four-times-a-day steroid drops were causing negative effects on my vision, so he made me half the number of dosage. He assured me that I would see a huge difference in a week (pun intended). But, I still felt pretty disheartened. I drove myself back to the office after the appointment and resumed work on my super-sized font laptop.

Week 4 - Current week

After further regressing on the day that I cut down my steroid solution, my vision all of a sudden took a turn for the better. I would say that this week, my vision is at 80%. My left eye is blurrier than my right eye, but for the most part, words seem crisper. I am feeling more optimistic, and we shall see how things go in a couple of weeks when I go back to my ophthalmologist.

Over and out for now.

Dueling Piano

It's been a while since my last blog, but part of the reason is that it's been a month since I've been able to see much of anything. I had an epi-LASIK procedure done about four weeks ago, which has made it a bit of a challenge to blog, read, or work for that matter. More on that later.

In the meantime, here is a fun little animated gif that K created to capture our two budding musicians. BBoy often feels left out when EB is practicing the piano, so we brought down a toy piano to keep him occupied. Little did we know that they would start their dueling piano routine.

A Little Bed Time Story

Once upon a time, there was pre-tween girl who desperately wanted to keep her meddling little brother from messing up her room.

She wrote notes:

"Dear B your asleep, I'm awake. Just because I'm not there
doesn't mean you can come in my room!"

She posted warnings:

She even built robots whose sole purpose on this earth was to keep him out of her room.

But this little guy...he didn't give a damn. 

He kept destroying and playing with things that did not belong to him, causing his sister grief. Which, in turn, led to lots of eye-rolling, lecturing and yelling from Mom and Dad.

But in the end, the girl realized that even though he can be kind of a bugger sometimes, he's really not so bad to have around.

Besides, who else would she able to mock and ridicule?

The end. For now.

Way Too Fast

I spent a good part of the New Year's Eve sorting through the kids' outgrown stuff, getting them ready for donation, give-aways and Craig's List. Everyone tells you to enjoy your kids because it goes too fast. But you don't quite realize how fast it really goes until you are staring at the stuff that not one, but both of your kids--who are five years apart, no less--have outgrown.

Here's the changing table that we received as a gift over seven years ago. It managed to withstand both of our wiggling, screaming, poopy kids. Both EB and BBoy pretty much hated laying still so they squirmed, rolled and kicked through most of their diaper changing sessions. Towards the end, one of its corners cracked and K ended up having to reinforce it with a heavy-duty metal wire. It's a simple changing table, but it served us well. In-between wiggles and kicks, K and I would kiss and bite their little toes, tickle them and gobble them up while they belly-laughed. I am going to miss this changing table.

EB at six months

BBoy at three months

Here's the crib that both kids slept in the first two years. Most nights they slept peacefully, 10-12 hours at a time (yes, we got lucky on that front). EB slept in that crib until two-and-a-half, whereas BBoy graduated to a big boy bed a few months shy of two. The little guy kept trying to climb out of the crib (he's a sneaky one), so we figured it was time.

BBoy planning his escape

EB peacefully sleeping

And then there's the little car that EB scooted around in. And the doggy walker that BBoy leaned on and learned to walk. Baby bottles and baby sippy cups. Bags of their outgrown booties, shoes and onesies.

In a blink of an eye, EB has moved on from giggling, singing toddler to to the still-giggling, still singing, sometimes eye-rolling and sulking pre-tween girl. BBoy is not too far behind, trying desperately to keep up with his big sis, struggling for more and more independence each day. And I look at both of them with awe, excitement, wistfulness.
























My 2014 resolution? Cherish each day. Because it really does go too fast.

A Star-Studded Week

EB had a star-studded week filled with personal visits from various Rise of the Guardians heroes.

It all started on EB's birthday--(Seven!!! Where in the heck did the time go!?)--when Jack Frost decided to pay us a big, big visit. I had not seen a snow storm like this since I lived in the Northeast over seven years ago.  Although our plan of celebrating EB's birthday at the movies and restaurant was completely shot, there was no disappointment on her part -- the kids had a blast playing in the snow.

Four days later, the temperature continued to hover in the mid-20s, with no sign of reprieve. We were all feeling a bit edgy--EB's school had been closed for days, BBoy's daycare was opened on a very limited basis, and K and I took turns working from home. At one point EB's sauciness got the best of her, and there were lots of talking back and tears. In order to redeem herself, she wrote a letter to Santa.

"Sorry Santa for being disrespectful to my parents. I should have been more nice to them."

The next day, K Santa wrote back (he's quick to respond, that eager beaver),  and EB found the letter while getting our mail (K had cleverly put it there while EB and I were out shopping).She ran back into the house exclaiming: "Mom, Santa wrote me back!" and began tearing at the letters before taking off her shoes and jacket. To EB's relief, she was given a chance to redeem herself.

Written by Santa's copywriter -- K

That very same night, she lost her second baby tooth, which meant a visit from the Tooth Fairy while Mr. Sandman sprinkled his sleepy dust.

The only Guardian that was missing from her week was the Easter Bunny. But Easter Bunny will have to wait for a few months.

A very belated birthday

Bboy turned two years old., ahm, like, three months ago. Here's the thing--K went back to work this past June and since then, our lives have become a series of schedules, deadlines and a lot of teeth gnashing over our schedules and deadlines. So I guess I've been a bit behind in my blogging and before I knew it, BBoy's birthday has come and gone.

But it's never too late to write about the dear little Man in my life...just look at this little face.

He has a playful, sweet smile, and a flirtatious way about him and makes me swoon with love every morning I see him. Yes, the dude knows how to work me.

He is now speaking in full sentences, and already very defiant ("No Mama, I don't want it!") but also very loving ("I wuv you, Mama!").

He loves to babble on the phone with my parents. Whenever he hears me talking with Mom and Dad in Mandarin, he would run over, yelling: "I want to hi ah-gong and Nai-Nai!" (translation: I want to say hi to Ah-gong (Mandarin for 'grandpa') and Nai-Nai (Mandarin for 'grandma')

And,did I mention that he has an obsessive love of cars and trains? Until this guy came into my life, I had no idea that our house would be bombarded by planes, trains and automobiles. Behold the exhibits.

Exhibit 1: His favorite toys.

Exhibit 2: His favorite books.

Exhibit 3: His favorite PJs.




Exhibit 4: The centerfold.

We had just bought a brand-new Mazda, and with it came a glossy magazine of, you guessed it, Mazda cars. Knowing BBoy's fondness for cars,  I gave it to him for a bit of fun reading. He slowly turned the pages, and when he hit this centerfold page he STOPPED, absolutely mesmerized. He looked up at K and I, and exclaimed: "WOW! CAR!" This made K snicker: "look at him with his Playcar centerfold."


Happy be-lated second birthday, little Man!

First Day of First Grade

So I hopped on Facebook this afternoon, and noticed posting after posting of back to school pictures: beaming kids wearing their new backpacks/uniforms/Shirley Temple smiles, holding a sign that commemorates the occasion (e.g.: "Look, I'm in Kindergarten!" "First Grade!")

And if you look at the photos carefully, you will notice the soft, luminous rays of light beaming down on their child, proving that the picture was taken at the crack of un-Godly hour for the poor, non-morning souls living in Arkansas--some time between 6:45 am and 7:15 am.

How do you all do it? (And quit making us look bad)

This is how our morning went:

6:20 am -- alarm goes off. We hit snooze.
6:30 am -- both K and I reluctantly get out of bed. I make EB's breakfast, K stumbles upstairs to wake her  up.
6:45 am -- K, still un-showered, walks EB to her bus stop.
6:46 am -- I come out, notice that EB's backpack and lunch bag are still on the kitchen table. I call K on his cell.
6:48 am -- K and EB run back to the house. My hair still wet, wearing nothing but a robe, I run into the car, yell for EB to jump in, and drive her to the bus stop.
6:55 am -- I lecture EB about the importance of remembering critical school items like the backpack.
6:57 am -- School bus comes, EB gets in. She looked nervous, but ready.
6:57:57 am -- I drive back to the house, marvel at how fast she has grown, and realized that I had forgotten to take a picture of her first day.

K decided to take a picture of her after her school so that we didn't seem completely delinquent as parents:

Which slightly vexed and embarrassed her, since it was in full view of her classmates:

No matter, it was a good first day for EB indeed. And K and I will try better tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day.