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 Astigmatism -rev

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Alis grave nil, pax



Posts : 25
Join date : 2009-09-22

PostSubject: Astigmatism -rev   Tue Oct 13, 2009 10:01 am

Mariah Dunn
Creative Writing
10/8/09

Dreaming in Color

I have had a high astigmatism my entire life, and in fifth grade my doctors decided that it was time for surgery to aid in the proper growth of my eyes. I remember turning 13 a month before I had the pre-op meeting, and therefore I was no longer considered a child. I had to go to a “grown-up meeting.”
That meeting changed me. Everything seemed reasonable for the first part. I would go in for surgery on a Tues. I couldn’t eat anything for 12 hours before, which meant no mash potatoes for dinner of waffles for breakfast. This fasting of sorts was so that I wouldn’t alter the results of the anesthesia. I would have to take a few weeks off from school, which at age 13 was rather thrilling because it meant no homework and some free time. The part that came after that were a list of the side effects; I should have straighter eyes after the operation, but there was a possibility that something could go wrong and my vision might decrease to the point of being legally blind. This part hit me like a ton of bricks. Honestly, I felt so queasy I wanted to vomit… but I didn’t. When I walked out of the room and for that matter for the weeks preceding the operation, I looked at everything and anything. I tried to make sure I took it all in just in case it was the last time I would see it.
I watched the clock tick slowly in class, the water drip from the faucet and the waves crashing. I observed sunsets from start to finish and the leaves in all their glory of fall. Sometimes I would go outside late at night to stare at the moon and stars just in case it was my last time with them. It seemed like each second I had was a precious gift, and that gift could possibly be short-lived.
I appreciated and valued life more than I had ever done in my past during the previous month before surgery. I tried to see it all. The simple things I might miss if something went wrong. I tried to spend time with my friends, to look at their faces, to appreciate their smiles. I remember sitting outside once for a few hours, just to watch the rain fall. Everything seemed more important, more valuable.
This surgery could potentially help me; my eyes would be more aligned, and it would certainly aid my vision. I knew it was something I should do, and really had to do. I would go through with it whether I was scared out not. They told me the risk was minimal, that I would be fine.
The surgery itself took 3 hours. I don’t remember any of it, but I do remember waking up from it, groggy with my head completely bound like a mummy. They had put stitches in my eye, which was the hardest thing to deal with. It felt like there were tiny grains of itchy sand in my eye that were un-removable and was not suppose to be rubbed.
When the bandages came off I was afraid to open my eyes. I was afraid something would go wrong. I sat with them closed, hoping, praying that my worries were unnecessary. That the month of heightened awareness of sight was needless, and that I would have my vision for the rest of my life.
The darkness was scary at first. I screamed, and then I cried. I asked the doctors “Would I ever see again.” If I could only see their facial expressions, but no, they had to tell be face to face even though I couldn’t see. They had to tell me that the 1 out of 1000 risk factor that had been mentioned in the pre-op meeting could actually happen. I never wanted it to be me. I loved the colors, I loved them all. When I was asked what is your favorite color I would always just reply with “the rainbow.”
Life goes on; but on in black and white, with sounds, smells, textures, tastes. I am glad I had that month of vivid alertness, and that I took that time to see it while I could. I miss it though. I miss it so very much.
I do have one very special gift though; a retreat of sorts. Because I used to see and because I still remember the world around me, what it is suppose to look like anyway, I dream. I dream in color. I dream about the things I have seen and the things I imagine I should be seeing. When I dream I have eyes that work, eyes that can see everything clearly and in focus. Dreams are like my portal, back into the world I was once a part of.
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Mike240



Posts : 38
Join date : 2009-09-22

PostSubject: Re: Astigmatism -rev   Tue Oct 13, 2009 10:08 am

Wow, this what-if is great! I just have a question, I reread it twice, but are you blind, or stuck with monochromatic vision here? I see the doctors tell you you're blind, but then you say you live in black and white. I love how you describe yourself looking at everything with such intensity, as if it may be your last time.
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Moonbeam



Posts : 46
Join date : 2009-09-22

PostSubject: Ideas for development   Fri Oct 16, 2009 11:47 am

Work on transitions in time. Partly, I was confused because this forum doesn't give you very good formatting, so I couldn't see your paragraph breaks, but it would still be helpful to get a clear transition in time between pre-op, trying to see everything, operation, post-op, and the present.
Also, develop a little more on what it's like to have astigmatism, why you felt it to be so necessary to get the surgery.
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AHSE Capstone

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Posts : 58
Join date : 2009-09-22

PostSubject: Re: Astigmatism -rev   Fri Oct 16, 2009 11:54 am

Re: Mike. It's an unclear ending. If you've developed the story to say the surgery didn't work, what were your motivations to get it in the first place? Why did it fail? And then expand on the results. Cause that would be terribly fascinating.

afro Afro man agrees.
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