I've been waiting for something unusual to happen before penning another blog, and for me this is massive. I woke up this morning, checked the time, looked around the room, opened the curtains and took in the day. Nothing unusual for most of you but for me this is the first time I've done that in over 10 years without first rubbing crust from my eyes or balancing lenses in front of them. Just pure, clear, focussed vision- a miracle. I feel like a new man...:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />

It's been a struggle coming to this point though. First of all I went for an assessment in December. At this the bastards dripped three dilating drops in my eyes that stung and ached and left me dizzy, afraid of light and unable to focus within a metre of me for over a day. Then on the day of the surgery I had a huge drama with payment since the credit card I intended to use was out of date and although I had a new one it couldn't be activated until 3pm my time and the surgery was set for 11am. With some help from my parents this looked to have been overcome and I was within half an hour of going under laser when a grim faced doctor took me aside and explained that the Singapore National Eye Centre would be postponing all surgery until further notice due to a much higher than usual number of infections being detected. In retrospect the delay was fortunate since I either may have been infected or at the least I would have spent a long time with only one eye sorted (since at that centre they do one eye each day).

A week later I saw in the papers it would be at least a month before I could be done. Bugger that. Searching the net I found a centre in Malaysia that was only 45mins away, pretty cheap and could do me next week. So what if they use rusty scalpels and iodine? Rusty scalpels and iodine have been around for centuries- they're proven technology. And to think that I almost put my faith in new fangled 'lasers'! Only kidding- they seemed just as well kitted out as in Singapore and boutiqueier by comparison to the production-line Eye Centre.

So yesterday I was in top spirits as I crossed the border and walked to the clinic. I know a couple of people who have done it and come through fine, no sweat, nothing to worry about but perfect vision to look forward too. Er, yeah.

The surgery was harrowing. I shed my glasses for the last time, changed into surgical clothes and had my eyes washed before being led into the operating theatre, cheerful and expectant. I can now empathise with lambs going for a gleeful day-trip to the abattoir and realising that the day might not go quite as they hoped once they arrive. I lay back with my head in a carved out block looking at an array of expensive looking machinery and the upside down face of a surgeon dressed exactly as they do in 'Casualty'- hmm, all looks quite serious.

First came the big sticky patch with a cut out for my eye, once that was on bye-bye blinking. Then came drops descending from somewhere to my side, sweet anaesthetic- shouldn't feel a thing after that right? But what's he doing now? What's that he's got? Too close to see but, ow! I can feel it. Shit, does he have to poke around my eye like that? 'Relax Mark. You've got to relax. It's hard to work when you're tense.'

'I'll relax when I'm in bed with some soothing music and a massage, not when I'm on an operating table with a knife in my eye you bastard.' Of course I couldn't say this, only 'Ok, I'm trying', as I winced harder.

Next came a black ring that pushed my eye even further open and then something else I'll never know. A call of 'Suction on!' and my eye gets tugged in its socket and everything fades to black- aarghh. I've seen 'Total Recall', I know how this ends! But then, 'Suction off', and it's over- I can see again. But wish I couldn't as my eye's being prodded again and I sense more than see that the flap of eyeball skin is being folded back. Now I can't see anything, but just experience light, still tensing everything like Arnie in a vacuum. Now there're jets of liquid in my eye- ow!- you bastards. Finally the call, 'Laser coming', and sure enough as I 'look' at some diffused red light I hear a dozen cracks and smell my eye searing.

Phew, all over. All that has to be done it flap the skin back- piece of cake- and do some kind of brushing over the ball and I can finally close it again. Mercy.

Repeat for the left eye and cut to me staggering out of the theatre, muttering a few half felt thank yous and squinting through my burnt, violated peepers as I get changed and led to a mercifully comfortable reclining chair and told that I could just rest there for half an hour. Fortunately I'm not well acquainted with discomfort and pain so this was unusual. The only time I've felt anything like it is seven years ago at Gaz's farmhouse in France, when climbing a concrete pylon (don't ask) I brushed grit and dust straight into my contact lensed eyes and initiated an hour of agony before I could hold my eyes open enough to get the lenses out. This was the same. I tried to tentatively open my eyes a couple of times, hoping to cheer myself up with miraculous vision, but I only ever got as far as letting in some painful white light and letting out a few more tears before thoughts of my flaps coming away and going back under the knife encouraged me to do exactly what I was told.

Gritty eyes

                Gritty eyes

                               Gritty eyes

                                              Painful eyes

                                                            Gritty eyes

                                                                          Tear running down face

                                                                                               Gritty eyes

Eventually I'm shaken gently and told to go to the waiting room. I'm led by the arm and sat outside the 'clean area' to put my shoes on and this is my first real chance to test out the new sight. Through streaming tears I can see my shoes in good focus, but just like pure white snow on a cloudless mountaintop they are impossible to look at for more than a couple of seconds, even through squinted eyes. Of course, my sunglasses! No coke-wired Sloaney has ever been more grateful to slip on a pair of over-sized shades. Now if I squinted I could see ok, but life was still much better with my eyes closed.

The doctor examined them quickly, said he was pleased, didn't mention the wincing (which was good of him) and turned me loose. The mission was on- crossing boarders with minimal sight. Luckily I had done the exact journey a few days before so I auto piloted it to the taxi stand, opening my eyes occasionally to save bumping into anything or getting run over and then sat in the shared taxi to Singapore with my eyes tight closed and tears still running, fumbling blindly in my bag for my passport at checkpoints.

By the time I got home and closed the curtains I could open my eyes quite happily and found I could see ok, despite the discomfort. A couple of hours of lying quietly later and it was night and time to go around to a fellow 'post-op' friend's place for some care and attention (/DVD and pizza). Now I was chuffed again, I could see! The lights of the city, the road signs, the film- everything.

This morning was the real start though, waking up and realising that it's done and sorted and I can throw away my lenses and solutions and pack away my glasses as a memory only. Amazing.

I could quite comfortably ride my bike back to the clinic first thing to hear that my progress was fine and despite my sight not being perfect and still being in some discomfort this was perfectly normal. If my sight stayed like this it would be worthwhile but it's set to keep improving for a month. Incredible.

I got carried away with the gory detail but I don't mean this to put anybody off. Ok, it's very unpleasant for 20 mins and uncomfortable for a few hours but the results are miraculous- do it.

Other news? Well the job's going really well, except I'm not making any damn money! People are finally listening to me and referring me to their friends but they're still hard to pin down for long enough to get anything completed, and it's not until then that I get paid. That and a few very unlucky breaks have meant that for the minute I'm totally skint- not good at all this far in.

Perhaps partly because of this I haven't been going out too much (save a few top-notch nights like a Pete Tong pool-party at Café Del Mar a few weeks back) and have been exploring meditation having had Climbing Tom pass through for a weekend on his way from 3 months in India and a 10 day meditation course to life back in the UK. He reckons it's revolutionised his life, and he certainly seemed even more cheerful, friendly and sorted than he is usually. So before you start shouting 'Effing hippy' bear in mind that I like pleasure and being open-minded, and that one usually leads to the other and this is a natural extension of that. And that I'm normally right ;-) Give it a go; it's working for me- life's just better if you spend an hour a day concentrating on nothing…

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