Unbelievably, there are still those who would deny the truth of the personal stories posted here. Yes, the posts here are decidedly biased, as one would expect from people whose vision has been, in many cases, irreparably, irretrievably damaged by refractive surgery. I am one of those people. If you look at my eyes, you will see nothing out of the ordinary, other than a drooping left eyelid with a slight tic, and you might, perhaps, notice that the right eye is a bit lazy.

In July of 2001, I had Lasik surgery at a well-known clinic 100 miles from my home. I had been told that I was a "perfect candidate," despite the fact that I was a very high myope with astigmatism (-10.5 -150 x 25 in the right, -10 -125 x 110 in the left), with thin corneas, larger than average pupils, a long history of dry eye that prevented any contact lens wear, a large number of floaters, asthma and allergies, fibromyalgia (FMS), and a career as a graphic artist that requires clear vision for most functions. I had tried to wear bifocals as presbyopia set in, but had been unable to adjust to them after trying several variations. Lasik seemed a good alternative—fix the distance vision and wear reading glasses for up close. In theory it sounded good, and they did mention to me that I'd need reading glasses. That was fine with me, I was already juggling glasses to be able to read.

I asked the surgeon a number of times whether the FMS would impact my surgery in any way, but he assured me repeatedly that it was no big deal. FMS is a syndrome characterized by connective tissue disorders, autoimmune issues, poor healing, sleep disorders and chronic pain. The eye is made up of connective tissue.

I saw the surgeon for the first time the morning of surgery. Shortly before I was taken back to prep for surgery, I was given an "informed consent" to read and sign, 56 separate points, with the comment from the assistant that "these things never happen, so don't worry about it. Doctor has never had any patients with these problems." I did read it, however, having had no frame of reference for the complications described therein, I had no understanding what they meant.

I had surgery. Immediately after, my vision was extremely cloudy, my eyes painful and dry. I followed the post-op instructions as given, but knew the next day when I went for my one-day post-op visit that something was wrong. The right eye was milky, and my vision in both eyes was very poor. Everything was horribly ghosted, there were multiple images in both eyes (in different positions in either eye), my depth perception was way off, and I could see nothing at night. My indoor vision was miserable, as though I were looking through waxed paper, or vaseline smeared on my glasses. The surgeon took a quick look, pronounced my flaps fine, removed the bandage lens over the left eye, and sent me on my way, paying no attention to any of my complaints.

By Sunday, the next day, vision in my right eye had become much worse. I bought a house that day, made an offer on a place that I had never seen with clear vision. I was terrified that I had lost my vision and that I would be unable to see to work, drive or function independently, and it was getting worse as the hours passed. I called the co-managing OD to report the increasing haze in my right eye. On Monday, I saw him. He looked at the flaps, saw the striae, saw the inflammation, and called the surgeon's office to ask what to do. I was prescribed Pred Forte for DLK, although no one told me that's what it was. One drop in the right eye, and within minutes, my eye swelled shut. I was advised to discontinue use, but nothing further was attempted.

Several days passed as my vision worsened. By the weekend, I finally had had it, and insisted on seeing the surgeon on the following Monday. He was most reluctant, and when I did get in to see him, could only keep repeating that I was legal to drive. I could see next to nothing, but I was legal to drive.

I went home, wondering what the hell was happening to my eyes. It never occurred to me that it was not a temporary indisposition, but that this was the outcome of the 15-minute mirace! I went back several times over each of the next weeks to try to get some relief from the hazing. I was given a non-steroidal inflammatory agent that cost me $50 for three days, to be taken for two weeks, and advised to continue using drops every half hour. The haze persisted for months.

At each followup visit, I insisted that my vision was very poor. One day, when the OD asked me what the lowest line on the chart was that I could read, I told him I could read nothing. "Oh, come on, you HAVE to be able to see SOMETHING," he said. Well, I could SEE something, a blur, but I could READ nothing. He attempted to "fix" my vision with numerous soft contact lenses, none of which I could wear due to excessive dry eye. And each time I'd come in, they would tell me that as soon as my vision stabilized, they would do a "touch up." The left eye eventually stabilized, but the right continued to fluctuate wildly. In December, 2001, I went for an "enhancement," a second surgery.

During the second surgery on the left eye, the lid was damaged underneath, leaving a scar-like ridge, and resulting in a painful tic in the upper eyelid. The surgery itself did bring me closer to plano, or no correction in the left eye, however, the quality of my vision was still very, very poor. By this time, much of the haze had cleared from the right eye, although there was an area over the cornea that appeared somewhat darker than the rest. I discovered later that this was scarring from untreated stage IV DLK, diffuse lamellar keratitis, a condition that if treated agressively early on, can be resolved without permanent issues.

By February, I was becoming very concerned about the quality of my vision. I had been unable to drive at night since the first surgery, and things were getting worse instead of better. I'd had numerous pairs of glasses made, but none worked, in fact they increased the aberrations and ghosting. I sought a second opinion from a well-known Chicago-area doctor, who when she first examined me, could not believe anyone would even have done surgery on someone like me. She found a large area of scarring on the right cornea, and with topographies, that my corneas were thin. She also discovered that my pupils had been improperly measured as much smaller than they are. At least I knew then that I was not imagining things.

As time passed, I returned to my original OD, who was surprised to see me, and unhappy that I had had surgery without talking with him first about it. I attempted more soft contact lens solutions, none of which worked. I had several pair of glasses remade with new, different lenses. Nothing helped. Glasses are fine for distance outside on a bright day, but indoors, they give me vertigo. I wore glasses for working at the computer at work, a different pair for the computer at home, one pair for distance driving, another pair for intermediate distance, and I had sunglasses with the correction in them. Unfortunately, the right eye continued to fluctuate, which it still does today.

I began looking for an attorney who might take my case, all the time learning more about what had happened to my eyes. Finally, in September of 2003, I was tested and evaluated at the former Emory Vision in Atlanta. The results of the aberrometry testing showed a high degree of higher order aberrations, and explained why I had such poor quality of vision. I found an attorney, began the process of filing suit, and in October, my long-time OD dumped me as a patient, citing my "noncompliance" as a patient and his frustration over not being able to help me. My noncompliance consisted of his inaccurate assumption that I was not wearing any of the glasses he had made for me (moron), and that I had given up too easily after his one attempt to put me into RGPs. He had taken regular RGP lenses off the shelf and stuck them in my eyes. I was in excrutiating pain from the moment he dropped them in. I couldn't even open my eyes, and he had to pry them open to remove the lenses. For his own failure to be able to help me, he no longer would treat me.

In November 2003, I consulted a dry eye specialist in Florida. I flew down, spent a week, had my lower puncta cauterized, and was diagnosed with conjunctivochalasis, a major problem with dry eye. The treatment recommended is AMT, amniotic membrane transplant, but it is expensive, beyond my means, and I have no insurance to cover it. I have not had the surgery, and my eyes remain excessively dry, to the point that I am unable to blink at night without effort, and I am awakened several times a night by the dryness, needing drops just to be able to open my eyes. Thankfully, I seldom have painful corneal erosions anymore.

Over the course of the next months, my lawsuit progressed through my depositions, a grueling, emotionally depleting 10-hour, two-day process, and to the day when my attorney was to present our list of witnesses to the court. As he confirmed with each witness their willingness to continue, we were dealt a huge blow when my expert witness withdrew. After several weeks, we were unable to find another expert, and eventually, I had no option but to have the case dismissed. Several weeks after dismissal, at the end of August 2004, I underwent an Arc scan on the Artemis scanner, accurate to within one micron.

When all the testing was done, the doctor came in to discuss my results with me. He sat down, put his hand on my shoulder and asked if I had considered litigation! The down and dirty of it is this: I have excessively thick flaps, the left is 200 microns. Average ranges between 130 and 160 microns. The underlying stromal bed, the remaining corneal tissue, is by FDA recommendation, supposed to be at least 250 microns thick. Mine is only 200 microns, dangerously thin. The right eye is only marginally better. The flaps are also excessively wide, at 10mm, average ranges from 8-9mm. Instead of the 6mm optical zone that I was supposed to have, it's only 3.4mm, tiny. My pupils in broad daylight are larger than that at 3.9 and 4.2mm, and in the dark, 7mm, fully 1mm larger than measured by a ruler in the semi-darkness of the evaluation room before surgery. The degree of aberration is so severe that the Artemis software was unable to interpret all the results and had to be rewritten.

What does all this mean? It means that there is no fix for my vision. The discrepancy between my left and right eyes is marked, and leaves me with a headache daily as the muscles struggle to fuse images. I am worried about my driver's license renewal in a couple of months, as I may be unable to pass the vision test. I've since been diagnosed as diabetic, an illness that has a clear and recognizable impact on the eye. I have no eyeglasses that work at any given time since my vision fluctuates daily, hourly. My employer has had to spend several thousand dollars on accommodations for me, including expensive lighting, a new and very expensive monitor, and an unusual work schedule in the winter when it's too dark to drive at my normal quitting time.

The biggest impact on my life is the loss of independence, the realization that I am now a prisoner of the dark. The financial impact has been significant, as well. My once flourishing free-lance graphic design studio is gone, and I'm unable to get another job at night because I cannot see in the dark to drive. I no longer go to movies—cannot see in the theater; nor to indoor sporting events—cannot see in the arena; nor to a play or a concert—cannot see in the recital hall or auditorium. I used to be a voracious reader, now reading is an incredible chore that I avoid. Many of the activities I used to enjoy are closed to me as a result of my poor vision—I will never make another quilt, fuse another piece of glass, nor solder a piece of my own handmade sterling jewelry. The list goes on.

Despite the fact that I can't see worth sh*t, I absolutely, categorially refuse to give up on living. Life is what you get, living is what you do with what you get. I prefer to squeeze out the very last drop. I count my many blessings each and every day, as I am surrounded by loving, caring, supportive friends, family and coworkers, my two kids grew up to be extraordinary young men, and by a fluke of the universe, I'm still somehow able to continue working at my job. I "see" with my brain, instead of my eyes.

For all those who think going to a good doctor, paying a lot of money, doing exactly what the doctor tells you, or anything else will guarantee a good outcome, the news is this: Even skilled surgeons with skilled assistants and the latest greatest equipment have their failures, too. And sometimes, as in my case, there is no fix. The starbursts, glare and ghosting obliterate everything in the dark. The glare and ghosting obscure everything in dim light indoors or on a cloudy day. I still have mutliple images and "vaseline" vision, poor depth perception, serious loss of contrast sensitivity, extreme dry eye, fluctuating vision, a permanent headache, and occasional stabbing pains through my eyes. What I've got is what I've got—I just have to live with it.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: artistwoman,