I am finally getting around to sharing my story. I think part of the reason I have not done so sooner is because compared to many, maybe most of the people who have written their stories or who post to SurgicalEyes, I have little to complain about. But perhaps one of the reasons the lasik mills can claim their marvelous success rate is because people like me do not speak out.
I admit it. I bought into the hype. I also listened to my Ex-husband speak glowingly of his procedure, and decided lasik was for me. I had worn glasses since I was about 10 years old, and at 48, the need to remove them to ride a roller coaster or go whitewater rafting (or risk losing them) was definitely losing its charm! I loved to wrestle with my huskies and was tired of bent glasses or bruises around my eyes because Heidi and Cozy decided to give me rowdy dog-love and moved faster than I did.
I decided to do my "research", which consisted of reading the raving reviews of golfers and listening to friends who had had RK talk about how their lives were changed for the better.
Like everyone on this site, I went to a well-known, highly recommended surgeon with a national reputation. Who in their right mind would go to someone who did NOT come highly recommended from somewhere or by someone?! We have all done our best to choose someone we believe is good at it. I think the point is that there are many excellent surgeons out there, but there is no way they can guarantee results. Go to a dozen different surgeons, ophthalmologists, eye doctors and you will get a dozen different reports on your eyes--measurements, dry eyes, quality of canditature for the procedure. People need to understand that because conflicting measurements, differing opinions can all lead to different results.
We need to stress to people who are thinking of this procedure to not only question their doctors, but also the friends who recommend them. After I had my results, both friends who had recommended my surgeon admitted that--well, yes, their night vision wasn't the greatest, and yes, their eyes were some dryer and got tired more easily, and yes, they had needed "enhancements"--none of which had been forthcoming when I had first talked to them. But oh YES they were delighted with their results. They paid all that money so OF COURSE they were delighted.
But back to my tale. I made my appointment and was told depending on my examination, I would have no surgery, RK, or lasik. I was told to come with a companion because I would be examined, and if a good candidate, surgery would be done right then and there, and I would need someone to drive me home. I couple days before the surgery, I received my information packet, most of it hype---the sterling success rate, the minute number of complications (and those not serious and almost all correctible by "enhancement"), the guarantee of at least 20/40 vision. Those complications were mentioned rather in passing, and there was a place for me to initial after I had read each one. I rounded up my buddy and away we went to the surgery mill.
I was put into the assembly line, shuttled from station to station, at each of which a different technician did a measurement of some kind. One of the stations was indeed an optometrist who gave me an exam much as I had had when I had gone to get my glasses changed, though my exams with my regular optometrist were much more detailed. I assumed the myriad technicians had taken care of some of that detail.
I the midst of the assembly line, somewhere in the middle, I was led to the station where I got to lay my money down. Because I was paying cash, I got a $200 per eye discount. Now how tacky is that? Something about it made me uneasy, but I assured myself that there was no reason at all to be uncomfortable. My final station was the surgical waiting room. There were three other people there, all waiting for their free enhancements--one was there for her second enhancement and the other for her third! The little inner voice was telling me to walk out, but we are all experts at ignoring that little inner voice.
Before I knew it, my butt was in the chair and a gowned assistant was feeding me valium, which, me being unused to any kind of medication, hit me like Mack truck. In in that place and condition, I had my first sight of the surgeon--sort of. His reliance on his minions puts peoples' sight at risk every day, as it did mine on that day.
My right eye was quick and easy--I was only vaguely aware that something was amiss with the left. My valium-induced fog was thick, but somewhere in the haze I heard an assistant say something to indicate some alarm and I felt something extra was being done with my left eye. The whole surgery from start to finish took about 15 minutes. I was led out to my friend who drove me home.
I slept the rest of the day, and another friend took me back the next day for my post-op "exam". The Great Man himself came in to the room, peered into my eyes briefly, took a temporary contact off the left eye, held a little paddle up to my eyes and had me read the infamous old eye chart, pronounced me 20/30 in my right eye, 20/40 in my left and walked out. I called him back as I had been trying to get his attention long enough during the entire 5 minute encounter to find out what had happened during the surgery. He said, "Oh your left flap didn't seal right away and that is what the contact was for. It's fine." He took off leaving me sitting in the chair sputtering "but..but.." and wondering how on earth he could possibly know everything was OK when he hadn't really examined me.
Over the next couple of days I was aware something was not right and I called the office. I was in quite a bit of discomfort and the left eye was nowhere near 20/40. In fact, it seemed to be very little different than how it had been before the surgery. I was asked by who? a technician? a secretary?if I was in a great deal of pain and I said I was not, but it was just not comfortable and I couldn't see very well. I was told to give it time to heal and come back in a month.
A month later I was back and went through the same drill, except only saw two people--a technician who did a brief measurement or two, and an ophthalmologist. I could tell something was wrong during the doctor's exam but the more questions I asked, the fewer he answered. He told me I had had a regression in the left eye and would need an enhancement immediately but that nothing else was wrong. My gut instinct was telling me otherwise, but I believed him when he said, "We'll have you seeing better here in no time." I told him I was due to fly to Colorado to buy a house the next day and he said, "You should not be flying anywhere. If you make the trip, I will not be responsible for your outcome." (Since I had made the reservations through priceline.com, I cancelled the trip and lost my money. So much for my $200 per eye savings! At this point, money was beginning to seem pretty immaterial---but then I have always had to learn the hard way!)
Surgical waiting room: more people waiting for an enhancement. Back in the chair and more valium. This time there was quite a bit of pain---and since I am pretty tough when it comes to pain (never even having had anything in the dentist's office)---I knew this was not an easy fix that was going on. Same thing as before: friend drove me home and back the next day for my post-op "exam", just as cursory as the first time. Once again I was pronounced 20/40, with the added verdict, "Pretty good, huh?", and again he was gone.
Over the next few months, my vision improved somewhat. I had ghosting, glare, starbursts, but really knew what none of that was. When I called the doctor's office I was told to give it time to heal--the healing would take care of all that, as well as the dry eyes and discomfort. I made my move to Colorado and waited for my vision to clear. I could no longer drive at night, my indoor vision was fuzzy, and even though I could see, it was very seldom that I could see clearly. Reading glasses helped the close-up vision somewhat, but it was still not as easy to read as it had been before. I quit wearing make-up because even with readers, I couldn't see well enough to put it on. I plucked my eyebrows and started doing many things by "feel". I started wearing lightly shaded sunglasses indoors under fluorescent lighting to make it bearable to go into a Wal-Mart. And still waited for things to improve, convinced if I just healed long enough, it would get better.
Finally, a co-worker of my fiance had laser surgery done, and I could tell that his experience was vastly different than mine. He had had several weeks of pre-op exams by the doctor himself, many talks and interviews with the doctor himself. Tips from his doctor passed along to me, helped alleviate the dry eyes. His doctor was not a nationally known celebrity, but he was a conscientious doctor. I made an appointment. He and a single assistant spent more time examining me than I had had total during both of my surgeries. His verdict was wrinkled flaps, slight in the right eye and severe in the left. He questioned why it had not been caught during the post-op exam, to which I responded "what post-op exam?" He said the corrective measures were nothing that he would tackle though he recommended doctors for second-opinions and mentioned the "ironing" procedure. He said this long after surgery (almost a year), anything would be iffy in terms of successful results. He said gas permeable lenses might help. Then he asked who had performed the surgery, and when I told him, he responded, "You're kidding. I am very sorry to hear that he is running that kind of shoddy operation. What kind of laser did he use?" I didn't know and asked why. He showed me pictures he had taken of my eyes and showed me what should have been lasered as opposed to the bright blue part that had actually been lasered.
Which is where I am now. I am functional, can still work, can still drive in the daytime. I have no pain, and thanks to the tips from the surgeon in Springs, the dry eyes are manageable. I am finally educating myself about my eyes, investigating procedures, hoping that somewhere there is a doctor who can help the wrinkles at least. When people ask me why I am not bitter and angry, my answer is that it would do no good at all. I really believe that I share the blame by not being better informed, though I know we all have to trust the doctors since we ourselves are NOT doctors. I don't know of any heart patients who are expected to know and understand the machinery being used, the tools, the techniques, the drugs, the ins and outs of the procedures they undergo--though perhaps they should. The fact remains the doctors should have some ethics--emphasis on the word should. By why should we trust doctors any more than we trust our car mechanics or plumbers--they are just people after all, and unfortunately people who can be seduced by a great deal of money.
I am a firm believer in the rule of "times 3"--what we do in terms of good or evil returns to us threefold. The doctors who blithely perform this surgery and take knowledgeable gambles with the eyesight of trusting strangers will have a great deal for which to answer. Our duty, those of us who have discovered Surgical Eyes, is to help others become more knowledgeable and to understand the gamble better. I believe in my heart that we are not a 1% or 3% minority at all. Most of us are part of that dubious "success rate" of 20-whatever. How many have ghosting or night vision problems like my friends who just don't talk about that part of it? How many are just so glad to not wear glasses anymore that they put up with the glare? Until those of us who are functional speak out, the others can be more easily "dusted under the rug" as the flukes that they definitely are not.
Thanks to everyone here who has told their story. I am grateful to each and everyone of you and wish us all luck in finding normality again.

melodylight@about.com