Being Bionic is HARD

Hello my lovelies,

I think we all knew that it was inevitable, but now it’s official. I am BIONIC!

OK, well not all of me is bionic, just my eyes, but I now officially have bionic eyeballs! I mean, there’s a slight issue with the fact that they don’t actually work very well. Oh, and that little disclaimer from my surgeon that under no circumstance can I actually claim to be bionic. Seriously, I feel like he does not know who I am! How dare he call himself a surgeon and tell me that I am not bionic. FOOL!

SHIT! The truth (though I think facts are totally overrated) is that I had cataract surgery. Yep, the same surgery that your 83-year old grandma probably just had. It’s not really shocking to think of me being a bit of an overachiever, but since I am also unquestionably a dumbass, I opted to over-achieve in cataract development. I developed cataracts about 25-years earlier than most people and I was legally blind in my right eye, so surgery was necessary. When I went in for the consult I had the option to choose the standard lens, which would most likely guarantee I would still need reading glasses or I could pay extra for the hi-def, tri-focal lenses. Go big or go home, right! I opted for the hi-def lenses and instructed my surgeon that since I am younger than most of his patients I was also opting for the bionic upgrade. He didn’t get it! More importantly, I don’t think he thought I was funny. The nerve of that man!

Fun fact — with cataract surgery you are awake the whole time! There was some dude (OK so technically a highly-trained surgeon) with what sounded like a dental drill and a small shop-vac poking around in my eyeball and I was awake to experience it all. If I knew anything at all about drugs I would assume what I saw was something like a moderately bad acid trip, but my Nancy Reagan ass is such a wuss I can’t stand pot and hated everything about Vicodin, so I just know it was weird and I was freaking out the whole time that I was going to do something and cause him to slip and instantly cause me to be a pirate. Hmmm, Ronda the pirate, well, I’ve mastered the swearing part, but I really don’t like rum. Can I still be a pirate and drink Rose all the time? Wait, sorry, that’s not what we were talking about and more importantly I didn’t do anything to cause him to slip and I am not a pirate, but I did have to go back two weeks later and endure the whole thing a second time on my left eye. Another fun fact, my vision in my left eye was perfect - 20/20 in that bad boy which prompted all of the techs and the surgeon to repeatedly ask if I’d “experienced a trauma” to my right eye. As if this shiny, congenial personality and acidic tongue would make me the target of bar fights. teehee

Now nearly three-weeks post surgery my distance vision is terrible, well, it’s not always terrible, but it takes my eyes a few seconds to focus, so driving is a bizarre experience and I’m completely night blind, or maybe the opposite of night blind. Every light at night looks about four times brighter than normal and with starbursts (the surgeon, that didn’t make me bionic and doesn’t get my sense of humor calls them halos) radiating out from each one. It’s miserable. I have not yet attempted to drive at night and am not ready to, so I either have to be home before dark or I have to have a friend come drive Ms. Daisy! The surgeon said on Wednesday that there’s still some inflammation that may be exacerbating it and he installed “tear-duct plugs” (it’s as awful as you would imagine it to be, trust me) to reduce the number of tears that are flushed out of my eyes when I blink. But I now totally understand why your nose runs when you cry - it is literally your tears being flushed out through your nose. Yay SCIENCE!

So now, I find myself a year older, certainly not wiser, but possibly wise-assier, working on my computer (HA! working, wink wink) without reading glasses and planning my days and nights around making sure I am home before dark. Adulting is so overrated!

Until next time…

XOXO