Sarah Morgan
Or, go see Wicked straightaway, ’cause it was wonderful.
Additionally, here are some short answers to some questions.
Yes, I had eye surgery.
No, it wasn’t laser surgery, it was surgery surgery, and I have the stitches (well, stitch) to prove it.
Yes, it was sort of an emergency.
Yes, it appears to have gone okay and I think eventually I’ll be fine, if a little less friendly with my eyecare professionals, who I now see in rather a more menacing light than I did before.
Yes, the very uncomfortable parts are over with the bruising and the swelling and the being facedown 24 hours a day and the double vision.
No, it isn’t altogether better and so I still can’t see properly or move my eyes very quickly or open my eye all the way, and sometimes I do very amusing things like think I’ve got my spoon where my food is when I haven’t, or have my foot where the escalator is when I haven’t, and without any peripheral vision or depth perception I certainly can’t drive, at least not for the moment. And let’s see, what else… I’m getting quite sick of books-on-tape because they take just forEVER.
And no, I don’t look like a pirate (I’m not supposed to wear an eyepatch after all), I do kind of look sort of Hunchback-of-Notre-Dame-ey, or maybe a bit like I got my ass beat in a bar brawl.
And the crowning indignity? They cut my eyelashes.
