Burn Me. I’ll Pay You. (LASIK Treatments)

Member Name: thequy

Product:	LASIK Treatments
Date:	06/07/01 (2199 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: Sight - what more could you ask for?

Disadvantages: Being grounded.

I’ve needed assistance with my eyesight since middle school although it wasn’t until my late teens that this started to become an unwelcome state of affairs. There were a number of reasons for this. Some of them petty in isolation, their combined effect was really beginning to nark me off. For instance, the sea is a bit of a no go area for contact lenses while specs limit you to splashing around by the edge of the beach. It’s not often you get to be on a sunny beach and when you do, it would be nice to indulge, no? In more everyday life, the swimming pool was also out of bounds. As for sport and going out, I could wear specs or contacts but the former were a liability and there was a limit to how long I could wear the latter for. Squash on Sat morning + out till early Sunday = Not Good. Taking them out in the afternoon made things bearable but still uncomfortable. As for the sheer hassle of looking after specs/contacts, oooh, if only we were allowed to swear...

And so it was that I had one of those “This is my Destiny. Fate has brought me here” moments when, just as I was bemoaning the injustice of it all to myself, I turned the page of the newspaper and there, screaming “I’m HERE!” was an advert for the Optimax laser eye clinic. Bless those marketers and their cunning communications strategies.

The decision was not totally without consideration. On the one hand, I was entrusting a highly valued part of myself to a profit making organisation. On the other, I also did this every time I got on a plane. Besides, such a complicated operation with so much at stake could not escape the forces of law and order for long if something were amiss. Someone would surely raise the alarm, whether a disgruntled victim or an eagle eyed government do-gooder. Trying hard to not think about Robert Maxwell, endowment mortgages or Concorde, I took a deep breath and plugged into the Net to find out more.


[Obviously, you should do your own research if you’re considering Lasik yourself. Some useful sites are listed at the bottom of this op.]


WHAT IS LASER EYE SURGERY?
Light enters the front of the eye and is reflected and focused towards the back where, in a pretty impressive feat of engineering, it eventually ends up as useful information in your brain. When you’re shortsighted, it’s because your cornea – the transparent membrane at the front of your eye - is too thick. This buggers up (for want of a better phrase) the reflecting/ focussing bit and the resulting information in your brain is no longer as useful though still too precious to give up. “Ahh! The answer is simple. The cornea must be made thinner. We’ll trim it. Like a hedge. With lasers.” You can see all that clicking into place as some Mad But Not Entirely Evil Professor does the washing up. These things happen.

The history of corrective eye surgery actually started out with Russian surgeons cutting into corneas with scalpels (Radial Keratotomy). Personally, I am grateful and relieved that I live in the Age of the Laser. Much as I appreciate what the human body and mind are capable of when people become experts in their field, there are some areas where we just have to concede to the superiority of technology, not least those where precision within a tiny fraction of a millimetre is a distinct advantage.

The two most common laser techniques are called Photo Refractive Keratectomy (PRK) and Laser In-situ Keratomileusis (Lasik). PRK uses a laser to trim (try not think about hedges any more) the cornea from the front. It can treat up to –9 dioptres (a measurement of shortsightedness).

With Lasik, an instrument called a microkeratome is used to cut and lift up a flap in the cornea. The laser treats the surface beneath the flap which is then replaced and heals naturally (this is fondly referr
ed to as ‘Flap n Zap’). Because the eye is being treated in a more central area, Lasik has a greater range than PRK (–14 dioptres). My prescription was within PRK range but strong enough to make Lasik a surer bet.


WHY OPTIMAX?
I’d already looked into Optimax a few years ago. It was more window shopping than anything because when you’re busy panicking about your finals, you’re not in the best of moods to seek out a £1600 loan. As a final year student, it went without saying that your bank statements started in red and ended in the same depressing shade of red. This time though, I had the required readies. Not exactly hard cash but seeing as I broke even each month (as opposed to remaining just within my overdraft) this gave me some leeway in the “Please can I have some money sir, I mean, Sir” conversation.

Note:
You can pay Optimax itself in instalments but the APR is 25% - about average for any loan-sold-with-product e.g. computers, but easily beaten by a standard loan. Rates fluctuate all the time but if you’re dealing directly with a financial institute and they can’t beat 25% on a £1600 loan then check for “Please Rob Me Before Broad Daylight Ends” across your forehead. Don’t fall to your knees too early in the negotiations because then they know they’ve got you.

Another Note:
It’s actually £1560 but I thought I might as well owe a round figure and have a bit of extra cash to celebrate my freedom. Hmm... it was this kind of attitude that... nah, worry about that later.

Back to the story:
Boots recently extended themselves into laser eye surgery (impulse purchase whilst you’re out picking up some aspirins?) and were briefly considered. The argument for was that such a large company with a brand/reputation to protect would take every possible measure against mishaps, including hiring the top names
in the field. The argument against was their charge (£2,500) and the fact that they only treat up to –6 dioptres (even with Lasik). As Optimax, along with every other clinic I looked into, treated up to -14, this said to me that Boots were treading carefully whilst they got into the swing of things. It’s unlikely that Boots know something that none of the specialist clinics do.

Boots would also have meant a trek down to London. Optimax have clinics throughout the country including one a handy 20 minutes away on the bus (London, Bristol, Manchester, Birmingham, Newcastle, Glasgow, Leeds).

Before deciding, I rang Optimax as well as some of its competitors, armed with a checklist from the FDA website (see bottom of this op). Three of the most important things to ask are:

1) How long the clinic has been doing Lasik - number of operations as well as the number of years. Find out the record for your surgeon as well when you book your operation. The one that operated on me had done 2000 operations which seemed ample time for him to have got the hang of it before coming anywhere near me.

2) What their success rate is - clinic average vs surgeon’s personal record. Just as importantly, ask them how they define ‘success’. Does it refer to 20/20 vision? Not saying hello to strangers on buses? You’re still breathing? This is important so that you’re not deceived by irrelevant statistics, and also so that you’re comparing like with like between clinics. To be truly sneaky, wait and see if they volunteer that level of detail before you ask for it directly.

3) What the fee covers. If it doesn’t cover all aftercare treatment, find out how much that is and add it in when comparing costs. Another important consideration is the cost of a second operation, should one be needed. The chances of needing a second go vary according to your prescription, so find out what the o
dds are for you and consider if it’s an acceptable risk.

Whatever you ask, put the same questions to your doctor when you have your consultation. The person that answered the phone at Optimax was very helpful but got the first two points above totally wrong. Or, the surgeon was telling porkies. I opted for the former, which helped me get to sleep the night before the op.


THE CONSULTATION
Before the operation can take place you must have a ‘consultation’, which is a one on one with the surgeon who will eventually operate on you. It costs £60 and you don’t have to commit to the operation until you leave that day (£200 deposit with balance of £1300 to pay on the day of the op).

I did have plans to go abroad but they were put on hold because I couldn’t take malaria tablets for 3 weeks before the consultation. Malaria tablets dilate your pupils – ever so slightly but enough to potentially mess things up. If you’re taking anything else that dilates your pupils, bear this in mind. You also have to stop wearing soft contacts 10 days before (3 weeks for hard lenses).

First up is a full eye examination. It’s like any other sight test except at the end you’re given some eye drops to dilate your pupils so they can peer in and see if you’ve got a ‘detached retina’. This didn’t sound like a nice thing to have and I breathed easier when he shook his head.

BRING YOUR SHADES!! When you leave the clinic after the consultation, you’re blinded by normal daylight because your pupils are still dilated. I was forced to keep my head well down or my eyes would water – not good when you’re negotiating the main road. You’re told in advance you can’t drive for 24 hours after but they should also advise you to bring prescription sunglasses if you’ve got any. I didn’t, so it wouldn’t have made a differ
ence but it’s the principle... the sun does sometimes shine in Manchester y’know.

After the examination, it’s Q&A time. Ask anything and everything that occurs to you. Don’t worry if it seems trivial or obvious – at the end of the day, it’s preferable to go into the operation with as few questions as possible left in your head.


THE OPERATION
In typical fashion I found myself legging it through Deansgate because I was a few minutes late for the 10 o’clock start. Imagine how vexed I was when, having signed the consent forms, there was a two hour wait before anything else happened. At first I thought I’d been moved down the schedule but no, the guy on at 12.15 had been told to come in for 10.15. It’s not the waiting so much as the fact that I was forced to read OK’s coverage of wossername off Coronation Street’s wedding (several times). Why does the entire medical profession - you know who you are - think that Hello, OK and Readers Digest are acceptable ways of treating their patients? If I hadn’t have swiped the Times sports supplement from the main reception on the way in, I fear for what would have happened to the other people waiting with me.

[Yes, I do have a product placement agreement with the Times. No, the details are none of your business]

Where were we? Oh yes, the op. In and out, didn’t feel a thing. Never thought I’d be able to say that about having both eyes sliced open but you learn something new every day. It's done under local anaesthetic so I was awake the whole time but the most tactile sensation of the whole procedure was when the doctor taped a protective sheet over the rest of my face - and when he rips it off at the end (I was millimetres away from losing part of an eyebrow). I was told to stare at a red light and before I knew it, I was being guided back to the waiting room. The Valium tablet they
gave me may have had something to do with this.


THE FIRST AFTERNOON OF THE REST OF MY LIFE
As the anaesthetic wore off, it felt like I’d spent the night with my contacts in. I was given eye drops that had to be administered every 2 hours on the first day and I put some in as soon as I got home. After only an hour it was getting uncomfortable again (though never painful) so I sat in bed and listened to Pulp Fiction with my eyes shut. That classic dialogue between Jackson and Travolta as they go to get the hapless Kahuna burger munchers was enough to ease matters as I counted down the minutes to the 2 hour mark. Never underestimate the power of laughter - or the Preacher.

2 hours came and I ran for the bathroom. The eye drops were an instant relief and I went downstairs to make lunch. After eating, I was heading up the stairs when I looked out the window and realised I could read the registration plates on the far side of the road. The discomfort had vanished, and I spent a lazy afternoon in front of the box. Regrettably, Sunset Beach no longer appeared to be showing and I was forced to baptise my new eyes with Wimbledon instead - I'm sure I'll get over it. Things didn’t seem quite as sharp as they had been with contacts before the op but even if they never got better, I was convinced I’d made the right decision.


THE FIRST WHOLE DAY
I woke up, immediately tore off the eye shields and peered around the room from my bed, checking out the label on the stereo, the titles on the books in the far corner, the CD cases in the other corner. Forgive me for being crude but the last time I spent the whole morning with such a permanent grin on my face was after I crossed that great hurdle that separates the Men from the Boys, those who Have from those who Haven’t.

NB: I should make it clear that I was referring to the ‘3 Weetabix in 1 sitting’ challenge. This is a famil
y site after all.

I went back to the clinic for the first check-up (then at 1 week, 1 month, 3 months and 6 months). The consultant (the surgeon’s too busy changing other people’s lives) said that the flaps were settling ‘perfectly’. Why thank you ma’am, and a very good day to you too.

My left eye was now very slightly long-sighted whilst the right was about as good as could be expected at this stage. My vision was twice as good as the previous evening – when I was ready to accept things as they were – and get this: it was expected to improve over the next MONTH as my eyes settled fully. I didn’t walk out of the clinic so much as merrily skipped.


WOULD I RECOMMEND IT?
No, I wouldn’t recommend it. There is no right or wrong answer with something like this where each case is unique. What I DO recommend is that you make the effort to find out more if you’re not happy with specs/contacts. There are risks involved and if things go wrong, they have the potential to go wrong big-time. Same as getting on a plane. Find out what the risks are for your particular circumstances, because only you can decide if it’s a chance you’re willing to take. For me, it was and it’s paid off in trumps. The same goes for the choice of clinic. I can’t guarantee it will be the best clinic in the country, but the Optimax in Manchester certainly has what it takes – pleasant, relaxing surroundings and pleasant, helpful staff with that professional aura that inspires confidence.

I didn’t think it morally right to turn to religion just for the summer of 2001 and to be honest, my faith in science still hasn’t fully erased the “What if...” thoughts. Right now though, a more pressing concern is the fact that I’m effectively grounded for another four weeks – no sport, no direct sunlight, no smoky environments. Some
people are never happy...

Expect fireworks somewhere in Manchester the last weekend of July.
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YOUR OWN RESEARCH
A good place to start is www.fda.gov/cdrh/lasik.htm. This is the site of the Food & Drug Administration – the US government organisation that regulates all this on the other side of the Pond – and is a goldmine of information with several useful checklists.

http://www.lasikinstitute.org/stepbystep.html takes you through the operation (step by step as it so happens). Not for the ultra-squeamish...

Next, contact one of the clinics and request a full info pack
www.optimaxuk.co.uk
www.ultralase.co.uk
www.maxivision.co.uk

(there are several other clinics...)
If the info pack doesn’t have a comprehensive list of possible complications and all the risks involved, then alarm bells should be ringing.

Summary: