I got PRK through a (well regarded) military hospital in the late 2000s. They made me sign a waiver that said I acknowledge there is approximately 1.5% chance my eyeballs would change with age and the procedure would be ineffective. I said hell yeah, let's go for it, especially since it's free.
It was, as others have said, slightly deceptive; immediately after the initial painless procedure, I could suddenly see the millisecond ticks on the analog clock on the far wall. I didn't even know those existed before, since my glasses were also military issued and bare minimum quality/effort was put into ensuring I could see (and I was never able to afford glasses prior to that). I could see the fine hairs on the edges of the nurse's cheek. It was a memory I'll never forget.
Soon after (a few hours) the pain set in, so I took the first of many percocets I had been sent home with. Started with just a splitting headache. I had never worn contacts before, and the hard plastic ones I had in felt like sharp weights on my eyeballs that cut my eyelid. I was diligent with the eye drops, which helped a lot, but didn't eliminate the feeling. I went to sleep. I was on medical leave for 7 days.
Woke up the next day and couldn't open my eyes. I tried, just couldn't. They were stuck. I put a few of the prescribed eye drops (3 different bottles iirc) into/on my eyelids in hopes of lubing them up, and eventually I was able to peel the eyelids off the contacts. It felt like I had dived eyes-open into fine sand churned up in salt water; slightly painful, burning, bur bearable. More drops once I got the eyes open. Things were blurred more than ever before, but I was told to expect that. Eyes were dilated, so I could read a book at arms length in dim light, but no screens or LED lighting or going outside. Dimmable warm color halogen floor lamps gained my undying respect. More percocets after the headache came back, plus they made me feel warm and happy. Fell asleep for 30m, 1h, 7h, 12m, with waking moments dedicated to pissing and shitting and eating through my stockpile of microwaveable pre-made meals and old DFAC leftovers. Lots of water.
After 4 days of the same, the pain began to intensify; now the sandy salt water was filled with vinegar and ghost peppers. Percocets dosage doubled. Vision stopped being so blurry, though, so there was progress. I could see the faces in the patterns of the popcorn ceiling again. Music stopped giving me pressure headaches, so I stopped sleeping so much, but now there was a sort of vertigo as my vision changed seemingly randomly from blurry to focused as my brain adapted to the modified input. Had to move slow and be careful, like I had broken a hip. Eyes still burned but the percocets and eye drops made it tolerable. Started eating better since I could use the stove and oven better. Bananas helped. I noticed how much piss had escaped the toilet bowl in the days (weeks? months?) and cleaned it up.
Around day 7 it felt like sand crabs had hatched in a sandy Tabasco sea; less burning, more sharp random jolts of pain, consistent vague burning and grittiness. I ran out of percocets except for 2. I got a pal to bring me some vodka, and I washed the last 2 down with a Ketel One and tonic. Last day of leave, had to be back at work tomorrow, might as well have fun. I could look at screens by then, and it was reasonably clear; eyes were still overly dilated (was it the percocets or the vodka or the surgery? all of the above?) so I had to sit far from my 15" Vizio TV, but I could play a match of Halo without vomiting from the eye pain and vertigo.
Strangely enough, day 8, when I woke up, there was no pain. I could see mostly clearly. Had to wear sunglasses in formation and throughout the day (which required significant bureaucratic effort in order to procure a physical "waiver" for presentation to the inevitable hardass), but goddam, I could see leaves.
Did you know that trees had leaves IRL and not just in stories? I didn't. I thought it was like how the sun is a circle with straight lines in childhood drawings, a representation. I mean, I knew intellectually about leaves; I knew some basic biology and botany and all, I had seen leaves alone, I knew they were real, but I had never seen them as isolated elements while still on a tree.
Did you know that drywall has a texture? Did you know that there's a difference between l and I and 1 and |? Did you know that outer ears can have hair? Did you know that bar straws are hollow?
I knew all of this, of course, but I had never seen it until I had healed up from PRK. It was a miracle, I had been baptized and emerged with clarity of vision. I wished I had more percocets but accepted the trade-off.
9 months later I noticed I was squinting to read my e-mail at my desk. I got a check up at the optometrist on base and was issued a new prescription for glasses. Not as bad as before: -2.75R and -2.50L instead of -7.50 and -7.00 as before the PRK.
I was the 1.5% they warned me about.
Over 15 years later, I got a free private sector consult to see if I was eligible for a "touch up" procedure. Despite the clinic's supposed capitalistic incentive, they said my cornea is too thin to consider corrective surgery. "But, look on the bright side," the bubbly, young, glasses-wearing technician said to me, "technology has changed a lot lately, so we might find a way to fix you up before it's too late!"