Like most kids in my generation I came down with the measles when I was nine years old. My face and body were covered with red specks that became itchy and puffy. My temperature soared, which is not good for young eyes and a few weeks later when I returned to school, my fourth-grade teacher called my mom and told her I couldn't read the writing on the blackboard. My mom shared this news with my dad while we were driving along the LA freeway and he tested the diagnosis by asking me to read the license plate on the car in front of us. I couldn't make out any of the numbers or letters, so he drew closer and closer and closer until my mom shrieked, "Jess, you're gonna hit that guy!"

My first glasses were pink with pointy uplifted sides and probably made me look like a cat. But, oh, how wonderful it was to be able to see telephone wires and the birds that sat upon them.

Wearing glasses wasn't so bad until high school when life became all about boys. At high school dances, my glasses would be stashed away, so I could make eye contact with a guy across the room, then drop my eyes and smile coyly. This plan did not work however because I couldn't see any guys across the room.

My graduation present was a pair of contact lenses, which I wore to Grad Night at Disneyland. All night at Grad Night. As anyone who has worn hard contacts knows, wearing them too long can cause abrasions that are incredibly painful. The next day, I was rushed to the eye doctor who administered pain-relief eye drops and bandaged one eye. "I'd bandage both but you wouldn't see where you're going," he said sympathetically.

On a date, I went to the premier of "Love Story" and cried buckets when Jenny (Ali McGraw) died. My crying jag washed away a lens and, too embarrassed to let my date know, I went through the remainder of our evening seeing out of one eye.

In subsequent years I tried soft contact lenses, definitely more comfortable, but they still gave me trouble. I'd get a speck of mascara on one, or tear one, or neglect to hydrate them overnight and they'd shrivel up. I'd drop one and have to place my head flat on the floor to find it; not so easy when you can't see in the first place. More often than not, the bottom of my shoe would locate it.

After awhile, I gave up and just wore glasses, from the tiny Granny glasses of the hippie era to the big Gloria Steinem aviator frames. Gold frames, red frames, tortoise shell, black? I've worn them all.

People started telling me about LASIK surgery; they all swore by it. "But the idea of cutting into your eye," I shuddered, in much the same way first protested the idea of contacts: how could anyone stick something in their eye! Finally, I realized how silly I was being, and called Dr. Glenn Cook here in Coronado. Dr. Cook has performed hundreds of LASIK surgeries and was a graduate some ten years back of UCLA Medical School.

LASIK surgery corrects refractive error that results in nearsightedness, farsightedness and astigmatism (uneven corneal curvature). Refractive errors occur when the outer layer of the eye, its cornea, is shaped incorrectly; the improper shape prevents images your eye sees from focusing properly on the back of the eye (the retina). By reshaping the cornea, the images focus directly on the retina.

A consultation determined that I was a good candidate for LASIK surgery - not everyone is because their corneas aren't thick enough or there are other anomalies. Dr. Cook noted that there are compromises involved with LASIK. He probably couldn't give me perfect 20-20 vision; I might have to settle for 20-40, good enough to pass a DMV test. And did I want to have one or two eyes done? If I had both done, I would likely have near perfect distance vision, but would need to wear glasses for close-up work. By having just one eye done, I'd have excellent distance vision and the other eye would be near-perfect for reading and computer work. I was dumbfounded. "But if I'm looking out of both eyes, won't one eye interfere with the other for distance and vice versa and therefore won't everything be blurry?"

That's when Dr. Cook explained how clever our brains are: each eye handles the job it's best equipped for and gives the other eye a rest. He demonstrated this by holding a disk over one eye that corrected its nearsightedness: I could indeed read a distance chart and a book in front of my face. Go figure.

I chose to go with just one eye and also opted for the newest "all-laser LASIK" with an "Intralase femtosecond" laser that replaces the microkeratome (a mechanically guided blade) to cut the hinged flap in the cornea. (It's all Greek to me, but I wanted the best.) The flap is pulled back, and an excimer laser is then used to sculpt the corneal tissue, reshaping the eye for better vision. The flap is then laid back in place, where it acts as a natural bandage that requires no stitches.

Pre- and post-op visits were to be at Dr. Cook's Coronado office; the surgery was at the San Diego Eye Bank; home to the multi-million laser equipment used by most area ophthalmologists.

On the morning of my surgery, my eyes were numbed with anesthetic drops and I settled back into a dentist-type chair. Dr. Cook explained that I would feel a little pressure on my eye as a clamp was lowered to keep it stationery, and he reassuringly narrated each step of the surgery. Ten minutes later Dr. Cook raised my chair back up and - I swear I'm not making this up - as I sat up, I could make out details on the walls and the writing on the equipment around me.

"You're already seeing things, aren't you?" Dr. Cook asked, smiling knowingly.

Six months after LASIK, I'm typing this article without glasses and not leaning forward to see the computer screen.

It took about two months before I overcame the habit of waking each morning and feeling around for my glasses so that I could read the clock. All I had to do was open my eyes!

Sometimes when I drive at night I get a halo effect bouncing up from car lights; that's one of the small drawbacks of having only one eye done that some patients experience, Dr. Cook told me. He could prescribe some night-driving glasses or I could squint a little to make it go away. I chose the occasional squint and the problem has actually lessened over time.

The minor inconveniences I've endured over the years are fading into the sunset. Like trying to apply makeup; you can't see what you're doing unless you wear glasses and you can't apply eye make-up with glasses on. And shaving my legs in the bathtub; my glasses would always fog up.

Today my legs are smooth as silk and I'm putting my best face forward. And it's no longer hiding behind glasses.