When Darkness Falls: a Journey Into Visual Disability

The night before my third eye surgery/procedure/treatment — the terminology is slippery — I methodically change the light bulbs in my apartment to red ones. When I'm done, my rooms have been transformed into a sulfurous den for opium smokers or a house in Amsterdam's red-light district. I haven't found red-colored refrigerator bulbs, so I place a pair of sunglasses on the counter next to the appliance. After the first surgery, I opened the fridge and shrieked at the