Personal Narrative-Time Eye Had Surgery

The Time Eye Had Surgery

When my eye first started hurting, I thought I would be able to go the doctor, get pink eye medicine, and go home with everything completely fine. But I was wrong. It was the morning of June 27, before I went to the doctor’s office. I had woken up with a terrible migraine, yet again, so I went to the bathroom to get some tylenol. I took one look in the mirror and I almost screamed. My left eye, which had been aggravating me as well as the migraine, was swollen half shut. The open part was red from irritation and there was puss coming out of it. I went to my dad, who said, “Your eye looks a lot worse than yesterday. Let’s go to the eye doctor down the street, you probably just have pink eye,” At the eye doctor office,

All of my doctors and nurses loved my hat. I realized that I loved it too. It covered my eyes a bit, so I wouldn't have to feel like everyone was staring at me anymore. From then on, I wore it everyday. It even got to the point where some of the nurses didn't recognize me if I didn't wear it. For the first time in awhile, I felt like I was completely normal, even though I knew deep down that I wasn't. Because what normal kid spends weeks in the hospital?

It was finally time for my transplant. I had never had surgery before and I was super nervous, trying not to go ballistic. I was really, really afraid of shots, like most kids are, so when the anesthesiologist came in with a super gigantic needle to put in my hand, I ended up

We will take a few out every once in awhile until the cornea fully graphs to your eye." (In case you are wondering I currently have eleven stitches still in my eye.) Stitches? I thought as I reached my hand up to where my left eye was. I couldn’t open it, and there was a bunch of padding and a big plastic piece over it to protect my eye.

After my parents signed my release forms, a nurse helped me into a wheelchair, which I thought was a bit excessive, and I got to go home for the first time in far too long. It might've been too early on to tell whether or not my surgery worked, but I could tell that I already felt better.

The next day, I went back to the hospital, not because anything was wrong, but because it's required for the doctor to see you the day after surgery. I was once again wearing my "can't see" hat. I went to the normal eye check up room I had gone to for so long. I had my fingers crossed in hopes that the doctor would say that my eye was better.

"Hi Emma! Are you ready to get your bandages off?" Dr. Fam excitedly asked.

"Yeah!" I replied. My parents had both come that day because they too were both nervous to hear what the doctor had to say. They both gave me encouraging smiles as Dr. Fam slowly peeled off the bandages. I opened my left eye, and almost started