Susan

1/14/99
Dear Family and Friends,

Today is Thursday, two days since I had the lens in my left eye replaced
and five days until my right eye is fixed. The past two days have been a
time of great emotion, incredible joy, catharsis, reflection and
thanksgiving for me.

Prior to undergoing surgery, I had been given various scenarios, but what I
really understood the best was that I would once again be able to pick up and
read a book. That ability being of such importance to me, and its lack such a
hole in my life, that I was eager to trade whatever was necessary to recover
it. The correction being an actual internal measurement, and the ability prior
to surgery to make only exterior refractive analyses, it is a bit of educated
guesswork. But damn! They are incredible guessers preliminary readings
yesterday at noon revealed a measurement of -.5, which gives me 20/20 vision
in my left eye, which no longer has hardly any astigmatism. And THAT was my
bad eye, of late little more than a hazy window to the world outside.

The night before the surgery, I walked down the steps at my friend Betty’s
house and never saw the last step. Fortunately, my laptop survived unscathed!
My knees, which made solid contact with the concrete, got a little bumped, but
no big deal. Certainly nothing I haven’t experienced hundreds and hundreds of
times, as the lack of depth perception and poor night vision have me well
accustomed to finding walls and other objects with body parts. One learns to
compensate with humor for the embarrassment that accompanies that constant
kind of behavior, especially in childhood. I had long since stopped even
giving any thought to that type of occurrence. So I have done much reflection,
as my life has been turned around.

I have thought about the childhood I spent peering out from behind pink or
blue glittered frames that had invariably slid down until they were perched
precariously on the tip of my nose. Annoyed by the constant battle which
gravity always won, I was usually too engrossed in whatever I was doing to
bother even trying to make them stay. That changed for me when I got contact
lenses at 14, and again at 16  the first time Stan did my eyes while he was
going to USC. For the first time I felt comfortable enough to give honest
answers, which I was aware seemed rather odd. For example, when asked to look
at the dot, I asked (first time ever) which dot he meant. And when he asked, I
told him how many it was that I saw. Thus I arrived at a new level of vision
correction, although in the past few years, the level has sharply and steadily
declined.

Today, my world is changed. I can see things I have never seen before.
There is more light, more color, more texture and sharper focus than I have
ever imagined when I look out of my left eye  unaided. The discomfort has been
minimal, certainly not worth mentioning in contrast to the benefits. I will no
longer have to work so hard to align images that want to splay out right and
left, up and down.

I love the technological advances that are the earmark of our age, and
adore the fact that everything keeps getting better, more powerful, smaller
and more affordable. I have infinite admiration for the creative and highly
educated minds that improve the quality of our lives and help to make dreams
reality. What a wonderful time this is to be alive.

Love,

Susan

1/24/99
Dear Family and Friends

It has been difficult for me to sit down and write about the second eye
surgery. Overwhelmed and in a state of sensory overload, it has taken me
longer than I expected to stop and gather my thoughts. Somehow major and
minor events in my life have surfaced to be examined and re-examined in a
different light. Significantly, the first corrective eye surgery I had,
shortly before my sixth birthday, has played across my mind repeatedly, and it
occurs to me that the psychological impact of these two events are somehow
connected.

Prior to that surgery, my crossed eyes made itimmediately obvious that I
had a problem with my eyes. Although at the time they liked to wait until age
ten to operate, the teasing had gotten so intense by the time I started first
grade that my parents decided they were unwilling to wait any longer. My
brothers helped to prepare me for the surgery, explaining how the way to reach
the eyes was to remove the top of the head. I remember the dream I had during
surgery, where my the top of my skull was sawed off and then the doctors went
to work with wrenches and screwdrivers to tighten up the loose nuts and bolts.
I was sent home completely bandaged and imagined myself blind. My memories are
actually incredibly vivid, almost palpable, in some ways. And I reflected on
the meaning that experience had in my life, as I learned and examined much in
the week between the surgeries.Repeatedly I heard from friends how unaware of
the extent of my vision impairment they had been.Although I often felt like
Mr. Magoo, I guess they hadn't noticed the incredible resemblance. In
retrospect I have had a stunning realization, that it is just those types of
impairments, the ones that others are not immediately aware of, that should be
talked about and explained to those who care about us. It isn’t a problem for
those who have obvious problems, as people readily adapt to that which they
can see. I can understand now that I simply spent years feeling embarrassed
for clumsy behavior unnecessarily. Easy to say, now that I can see. I never
understood how different things look with depth perception. Even just in the
house things look different. I like the fact that I can see things coming now,
and they don’t just suddenly "pop" into my field of view.

With all of that time to reflect, the second surgery loomed ahead of me in a
far different way than the first one did. I had spent a week covering one eye
and then the other, switching my view from my left (-corrected) eye to my
right, with my prescription contact lens in. It felt as though I was wearing a
Vaseline smeared sunglass over my right eye, the difference in clarity and
light was so intense. I understood, more and more, how unimaginable this
transformation was to be. That light dawning in my pea brain left no room for
sleep. I became so excited that it was impossible to rest or even sit still.
The night before the surgery, although I had made great efforts to retire
early and get as much rest as I could, I could barely sustain sleep for three
hours. Too enormous and too exciting a future was in store, and I was really
finally comprehending all that it entailed.

The second surgery was more difficult for me to sit still through, for that
reason. I tried my best to give my assistance, as much as possible, to
Dr.Salz, but I think that my excitement was just a bit distracting. The poor
nurse thought I was in pain, and made efforts to calm me and hold my hand. I
was just happy, and trying to concentrate at the same time. I was hoping like
mad that the results would be as good in my right eye as they were in my left.

What can I say? The world has changed. The colors are so bright that I feel
like I exited a world or two color process printing and entered a Maxfield
Parrish gallery. The contrasts are stark and amazing. My brain is having quite
a time just keeping up with all the thoughts that bounce around like so many
ping pong balls in the lotto machine. I am spilling over with thought, and for
the most part find it difficult to do much else. My time is spent taking in
the sights, and trying to digest the entirety of the change I have undergone.

Evening events will no longer keep me home, as I can now read street signs
EVEN AT NIGHT.Driving home from Berkeley, the skyline of Oakland was so
beautiful. I could tell where in space the buildings were, and the approximate
location of the airplane flying overhead in relationship to them. I sit in the
car and drive, listening to music, unable to speak, looking, thinking

Someone has unlocked the door and I am free now to go. In two or three weeks
my eyes will have healed to the point that no one will even know that I am so
bionic. Amazing world. Incredible vistas.Pinch me and make sure I'm not
dreaming.Words don't even come close.

I add these words, sent to me by a friend, penned by the poet and composer
Rabindranath Tagore:
The sunlight opens for me the world's gate,
love's light its treasure.

Wishing you great delight,

Susan