So I’ve worn glasses since I was about ten, my parents noticing me scrunching my face up in an attempt to focus on, well, almost anything. There is surely nothing more attractive than a pudgy pre-pubescent kid trying to make his face implode and pushing that imploded face RIGHT up to yours so he can see you better.
Back off, kid, you’re creeping me out.
I had a lovely collection of plastic NHS frames and, when I went to high school, graduated up to some highly alluring steel aviators. Step up, ladies, it’s all for sale.
And I broke them, a lot, adding the requisite tape and glue as I went along.
Are you getting a picture yet?
Teenage years brought daily disposable lenses and many thrilling hours of poking myself in the eye in the mirror. Daily disposables certainly allowed me to avoid the rigmarole of cleaning and storing, but they were essentially made of cling film and not really designed to be handed by a ham fisted teenager.
So I stuck to specs, wearing lenses only on occasion, mainly when I want to wear sunglasses.
Earlier this year I was out in the UAE and Sean suggested laser surgery to me. I was less than convinced, as I firmly believe that something will go horribly wrong and I’ll end up looking like this guy.
But he was insistent. He’d had it done, his wife has had it done.
And I’d be all up for “Maybe I should discuss this with a doctor…”, except he IS a bloody doctor. And he’s not even going “Well…these are the risks….you should know about the possible outcomes.”
He’s just saying “You’re a bloody idiot, go and do it.”
So I came back to Scotland with the intention of doing exactly that.
And what’s why tomorrow I’m going to go and have a man shoot lasers into my eyes.
Oh and, AND.
I’m going to pay him money for doing it.
There’s an enormous part of me who thinks that what I’m doing is fucking stupid. My vision with lenses and glasses is just fine and I’m aware that the surgery carries a risk that I may come out the end still needing corrective lenses. Or, even more excitingly, I may end up MORE short sighted than I was before.
But on the other hand, there’s a much higher chance that I’ll have a day or so of discomfort and from there on in I’ll be able to do such luxurious things as waking up in the middle of the night for a pee and not having to blunder about in the darkness.
I’ll be able to swim! (I can swim already, by the way, I’m not expecting the LASIK to turn me into Flipper…)
And I’ll be able to travel away from home without the constant worry of having a spare pair of lenses with me, or losing my glasses
It’s not even as though I can sell them afterwards if I don’t like the results…I don’t think EBay has a section for “Burned body parts.”
Also, I’m not sure how I’d ship them.
There’s an entire story to be told about how I chose which person shoots me in the face.