Matter of Laugh or Death
By Bill Dunn
Interesting observations on this thing we call life
20/20 VISION ONLY A ZAP-ZAP AWAY
Supposedly, Iím the perfect candidate for laser eye surgery. Iím near-sighted with no other vision problems, and all Iíd have to do, as Iíve been told dozens of times by my friends, is ďgo in, sit down, Zap! Zap! and youíll never have to wear glasses again!Ē
Well, it sounds wonderful. Iíd love to have 20/20 vision again and not need to wear glasses anymore. There is one slight problem, however: Iím chicken.
Iím sorry, but the idea of someone applying a laser beam to my eyeballsóZap! Zap!ómakes me a little squeamish.
Itís not that Iím a crybaby about medical treatment, like some people. When I was a kid our dentist used to drill cavities without giving us Novocain. No big deal. (My dad said to the dentist, ďYou charge extra for Novocain? Well then, forget that. My boys can take it.Ē) And when I was in high school and got a bad gash on my finger, I sat and watched intently as the doctor stitched me up, fascinated that he was getting paid so much to do essentially what my mom did for free whenever she had to mend a hole in our jeans.
As an adult, Iíve also demonstrated my courage plenty of times. When my wife went into labor, I boldly strode into the hospital delivery room, confident that I would make it through the ordeal. (Other than the minor fainting spell, I did fine. Oh, and my wife did pretty well, too.)
By far, my most daring and courageous action takes place each and every business day. Since Iím on the road most of the time, I have to use the rest room facilities at a multitude of fast food restaurants, greasy diners, gas stations, and highway rest areas. Talk about fortitude and guts. There in no greater proof of raw courage than to let oneís nether regions come in contact with, well, with who knows what may be lurking on those seats. And the Congressional Medal of Honor should be awarded to anyone who uses that sandpaper-grade bathroom tissue (on those rare occasions when there is actually some paper left on the roll).
So donít tell me Iím a wuss just because Iím afraid of this newfangled laser eye surgery.
I just donít understanding how it can be beneficial to combine two things which are so seemingly incompatible: the most complex, delicate biological mechanism in the human body and the Darth Vader Death Ray. To think that combining eyeballs and laser beams will produce improved sight strikes me about the same as thinking that swallowing a live hand grenade will produce a better singing voice.
Presumably the lasers used by modern medicine are not quite the same as the planet-destroying, beams-of-terror seen in science fiction movies. (I havenít heard any news reports lately about eye clinics suddenly being vaporizedóbut then again, I donít watch the network news anymore.)
In my mind a laser beam is a laser beam. When I think of laser eye surgery, I envision the climactic scene in ďRaiders of the Lost ArkĒ where all the bad guyís eyeballs melted like candles in a blast furnace. (Their heads and the rest of their bodies subsequently melted, too, which even I admit is fairly unlikely to happen during laser eye surgery, as any competent doctor will shut off the machine as soon as he notices your eye sockets are empty.)
I suppose if your eyeballs suddenly turned into liquid wax during the procedure, it technically would not be false advertising to claim that you wonít need glasses any more. But thatís probably not what my friends had in mind when they encouraged me to visit an eye doctor.
Ever since I was a kid, the laser was depicted as the ultimate weapon of mass destruction (not counting, of course, the social engineering policies of liberal politicians). Remember that old James Bond movie, where Sean Connery was strapped to a table while a laser beam slowly inched its way up between his legs? Ouch! Talk about Zap! Zap! I have no idea how he got out of that predicament because I fainted every time I saw the scene. You donít have to go to medical school to know that if your crotch is relocated to your Adamís apple, it is neither healthy nor very comfortable. Plus, none of your pants will fit anymore.
For the time being I think Iíll pass on getting laser eye surgery. Maybe in a few years medical science will improve the technology. If they can do the procedure with less frightening equipment, say, a drill and no Novocain, then Iíd be willing to give it a try.
|Home||Current Faith||Current Funnies||Faith Archive||Funnies Archive||Contact Bill|