For years, my husband believed my poor eyesight was a closely guarded secret; then I came home from my laser eye surgery, looked in the garage, and shouted, “This can’t be happening!”

The next morning, Marissa arrived at my door with coffee and a bag packed for the clinic.

“Are you still sure about that, Gina?”

Dr. Halim was attentive, patient, and honest about the risks. The procedure itself took less time than expected.

The recovery was even stranger.

For two days, everything resembled a blurry watercolor.

On the third morning, I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling fan.

I actually saw it.

The blades, the starter chain, even the dust accumulated on the edges.

I cried for an hour.