Implant surgery brings first an earful, then an eyeful

Thanks to all of you who admitted being tricked into believing I was getting breast implants, including friends who should have known better when I wrote two weeks ago that I was getting implants.

“Jane Ann’s getting boobs,” one friend announced to another while reading my May 12 column. And yes, there was some sorrow among a few when the joke was revealed that the implants I was getting were in my eyes, not my chest.

Scores of kind people called or wrote to share their experiences with cataract removal and lens implants.

An empathetic woman named Nancy Price wrote: “I just thought you needed a little moral support to get through your surgery. I just had the procedure done and I understand your fears especially because I can vie with you as the biggest wimp.”

She expressed her terror that something would go wrong, “and I would not be able to read. Not only could I not work but how would I spend my time if I couldn’t pick up a book to read. That’s my life,” Price wrote. “I know no matter what I say, you will still worry, but be assured it works. I love my new eyes.”

Kody Kearns shared how happy his wife, Michelle, was with the procedure.

“Of course, the downside is that she noticed how inept I am at house-cleaning; and though I’ve tried to keep things dusted, swept and mopped, my inadequacies in this area are now all too apparent. But I’ll take the heat for being a lousy housekeeper just to look in those eyes and see how bright and positive they are.”

His wife is seeing 20/20+ after more than 40 years of corrective lenses and contacts and needs only a very mild reading lens for protracted stints reading and quilting.

“Best of all has been the change in her outlook on life. She’s nearly irrepressible with happiness,” Kearns wrote.

By coincidence, his wife and I were both patients of the same ophthalmologist.

My doctor warned me that because of my “complicated” eyes I was a higher risk. I had cataracts, severe astigmatism and was horribly nearsighted. OK, 20/200 is how I saw without contacts.

Now I’m at 20/40. And it may get better with fine-tuning in a few months, possibly with piggyback lenses or Lasik.

I’m confident that ultimately my night vision and my ability to read longer without eyestrain will improve.

I cannot lie. I was afraid of the two surgeries. Tinkering with our eyeballs, when reading is both a delight and a necessity for the job, is frightening. The two people who warned me of their problems after lens implants described in detail horrifying post-operative experiences.

When my second eye wasn’t sharp by the end of the second day, I fretted. But the next morning the fuzziness was gone, and the two eyes now work in tandem instead of as horses running wild.

Unexpected things give me pleasure, like waking up in the middle of the night and being able to see the time on the clock.

Then there is the joy of color. After the first eye was done, I spent the next week comparing the vision in each eye. The old eye that still had a cataract seemed to have a layer of brownish smog covering everything.

The new eye, the happy eye as one reader called it, saw colors so much more vividly, it actually lifted my spirits.

We can thank World War II pilots and a smart English ophthalmologist named Howard Ridley for intraocular lens implants.

He noticed that after bullets shattered the plastic canopy in the planes, the shards that flew into the eyes of pilots were compatible with eye tissue.

In 1949, Ridley replaced a natural lens that had a cataract with an artificial plastic lens. It took 30 years for the idea to catch on, but today lens implants are hugely popular.

So I’ve joined the million or so Americans who will have lens implants this year, rather than the 329,000 who will have breast implants, proving that I’m not the only one who would rather see than be seen.

Just call us visionaries.

Or Happy Peepers.

Jane Ann Morrison’s column appears Monday, Thursday and Saturday. E-mail her at Jane@reviewjournal.com or call 383-0275.