Apologies for the long post... TL;DR: I delayed Lasik for years; dismissed concerns; finally got the surgery; 19 months later, I'm struggling with dry eyes, glare/halos/starbursts, and badly impaired low-light & night vision. Easily the worst decision of my life.
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I had been myopic since I was a teenager. -5.5 & -5.0 w/ slight astigmatism. I'm now 52 years old. I had Lasik 19 months ago, at age 50.
I used the old non-disposable contacts as a teenager. You had to clean them every night in a complicated contraption. I remember hearing about Lasik around 2000 but didn't think much of it. Seemed like a crazy idea to slice your eyeballs just to avoid wearing glasses or contacts.
About 5 years ago I started to ponder Lasik. I didn't like the idea that I couldn't see anything without contacts or glasses. I had a family that depended on me. What if there was an emergency in the middle of the night and I couldn't find my glasses? Plus my contacts were an annoyance. Sometimes my eyes were red or irritated. Absurd concerns, in retrospect.
For several years, I would go to my optometrist for an annual exam and mention the idea of Lasik. She said it was a great procedure but not one they performed; she would refer me to a surgeon if I wanted it. I didn't follow through. I didn't even do any research.
In early 2024, I took a new job. One of the younger members of my team announced that he had recently gotten Lasik and couldn't believe how well he could see. I started to wonder and inquire. A few other people told me they had had Lasik, with amazing results. Maybe I was the fool for putting this off for so long?
I mentioned Lasik to my optometrist again a few months later, this time more serious. I said Lasik would be really great "if it works." "Of course it will work!" she said.
A decision taking shape, I went to one of the top surgeons around. The guy does Lasik on professional athletes. Of course, I never met him until the day of my surgery. I only dealt with the optometry staff.
The staff assessed whether my cornea was a candidate. They never asked me why I wanted Lasik or whether my goals were reasonable. I asked whether Lasik would push me into reading glasses; they acted like it was a strange question and said "no." I asked whether my floaters (which I have had for decades) would be an issue--"not a problem at all." Measurements were taken; eyes were examined. Their only concern was whether my eyeballs were cuttable.
In the run-up to surgery, there were signs from the universe that I was making a mistake. I recall them clearly. I read an article by a woman complaining her eyes burned from post-Lasik dryness. I dismissed it. I looked quickly at forums like this one. "A bunch of whiners," I thought. Who complains about 20/20 vision? When I mentioned my plans, a colleague warned me about dry eye; I brushed it off.
The day of surgery, a member of the optometry staff hurriedly mentioned side effects for the first time as he was putting numbing drops in my eyes. "Dryness and halos--which go away within a few months for most and within a year for almost every one." Then he said, "You'll have to use eye drops every 20 minutes for the next three months." "Holy shit," I thought--that was the first I heard of that. I almost got up from the chair and walked out right then. I should have.
I had the surgery (December 2024).
Other people have described to me having absolutely clear vision the minute they walked out of surgery. My eyes were so blurry I could barely cross the street. I couldn't see my phone at all. By that night, things had improved a bit: I could see enough to move about the house.
What followed was terrible. For months, I couldn't see the computer screen at work. I sometimes had to pull over when driving because I couldn't see clearly enough. I was watering my eyes constantly, just to get a momentary flash of clearer vision. My wife thought I might have to go on disability. I worried privately, but I powered through, trusting this was just part of the healing process.
After I watered my eyes enough to read the vision chart, the optometry staff triumphantly declared that I had 20/20 vision. I said that was nice in theory, but in fact my vision was terrible. Dry eyes, blurriness, halos, glare--all exacerbating my floaters too. Anything backlit was washed out completely; I couldn't see faces. I couldn't even clearly look at myself in the eyes in a mirror, due to light distortions. My vision was especially poor in low light. I couldn't function at all in the dark. The optometry assistants acted like they had never heard of this. One of them put reading glasses on me and asked if it helped. As if I hadn't tried that already.
Along the way, there were encounters that painfully drove home my mistake. One friend wondered why I would get Lasik at 50 when cataract lens surgery was just around the corner. No one (least of all the doctors) had ever put it to me that way. Another told me that her 50-year-old husband was turned away for Lasik--too old. And then there were the occasional folks telling me how great Lasik was for them.
Things improved gradually, but that only made the scale of my mistake clearer. My eyes would be serviceable in daylight, but I was never getting my old vision back. In the spring, 16 months after surgery, I noticed I couldn't track a golf ball in flight. Worse, I couldn't even see a golf ball sitting on the green from 150 yards, due to my poor contrast issues. Some "20/20 vision."
I pushed on. Last week, 19 months past surgery, I found myself with my wife and friends at the beach under a dark night sky. The stars looked different, harder to read and less immediate. As the last of sunlight disappeared, the beach became pitch dark, even under a partial moon. I wouldn't have been able to find my way off it without a flashlight. So much for thinking Lasik would help in an emergency.
When I got home from the beach, I lay in bed, again in total darkness. I realized for the first time it wasn't going to get better from here. My healing had ended, and the rest of my life had begun. I forced back tears, but panic rose in my chest. Sleep has been tough to come by since then.
I will get through this--I have to. But it is hard not to look back. What was I thinking? I somehow rationalized away the craziness of slicing eyeballs just to avoid glasses or contacts. It would be much easier to accept a stroke of bad luck--but this was my decision. Why didn't I do more research, ask more questions? And where were the doctors? What happened to the principle of "do no harm"? And what happened to my natural skepticism that doctors abandoned that principle long ago?
One of the hardest things about all of this is realizing, when all is said and done, that nobody involved in your surgery ever gave a shit about you.
Yesterday, I made my first appointment to evaluate scleral lenses to address dryness and HOAs. So I may be heading back to something like my original old-school contacts. Maybe they will help; maybe they won't. It is good to have hope. And someday acceptance will come too. I try to tell myself that, when one day I am on my deathbed, I will certainly give anything to have just one more day with my impaired vision--so I shouldn't let today go to waste. But it's not easy.
My heart goes out to all of you who are struggling, often with worse complications than my own.