Two weeks ago I received a complete smattering of test to determine whether or not I was an appropriate candidate for LASEK surgery. Dr. Choo, who performed my tests, was informed of my congenital rotational nystagmus and current prescription via papers from my ophthalmologist of several years back home. Based on this information, Dr. Choo informed me that nystagmus wouldn't be a problem because new wavefront technology allows the laser beam to track your movement 400x/second, however my vision would only be best corrected to 20/40 in my left eye and 20/50 in my right. One can only imagine my surprise. I scheduled this consultation with the assumption that I wouldn't be able to undergo laser surgery. But hey, let's book it! I followed this up by asking my parents to get the go-ahead from my ophthalmologist back home as well. Got it! Perfect ~ Let's do it!
I left work at 2pm on Friday filled with overwhelming excitement. The thought of new eyes blew my mind. The sharpness and clarity of my glasses was gonna be combined with the greater ability to focus of my contacts. And to top it all off, there was a slight possibility that my vision would be even sharper than with my glasses. Most people that can be corrected to perfect vision end up seeing 20/10 or 20/15 after surgery. Could it be true? Could it be possible? This is one small step towards better vision, and I'm about to take it. No fear here...only anticipation of the greatness to come. Honestly, I don't remember being THIS excited, but I must have been. Just trying to recapture it for you is all.
Shortly after arriving, Dr. Choo offered to take my belongings and place them in a locker for me while he performed some last-minute tests to ensure my eyes hadn't changed in the past two weeks. I excitedly asked him, if I fixed m muscular problem, would I be able to see 20/20? And then was disappointed by his answer: no. After asking why, he explained that my vision was fixed at the age of twelve, and since I've had nystagmus since birth, my retina was unable to form properly. I don't think he knew it, but hearing this news was the equivalent of someone punching me in the stomach. I think he thought that I already knew it was impossible for technology to catch up with me because technology had nothing to do with it.
Then he took me into a room with chairs and computer where he showed me this cute powerpoint explaining the procedure. It was all in Korea, but he translated it for me...even the "congratulations!" at the end. He also went over complication of the procedure and how to care for my eyes following surgery.
There are four incredibly bright white lights around a circular area with a small green light that I was supposed to focus on. Well, I'm not sure, but I felt like I'm wasn't focusing on the green light, which is kind of beginning to stress me out.
My surgeon, Dr. Lee, kept telling me "look at the light. No..look at that light. Just look at the light" as he pried my right eye open with metal tong things. I was getting more anxious and starting to breath heavy because I wasn't able to do what he wanted. If I was, he wouldn't have kept asking me. Then a nurse put her hand under the blanket laying over me to hold my hand. The sweet comfort of someone who cares made me start to cry. While all this happened, my right eye was already soaked in alcohol, and the epithelial layer of my cornea removed. "Look at the light. Just look at the light. Oh that's it. No, look at the light." Then a bandage contact lens was placed over my eye and I was told to go take a rest in the recovery room. More like go cry alone. At one point this Canadian-Chinese girl scheduled to have her surgery after me came in and asked me if I was okay, which was nice. Although we couldn't see each other, so I don't know how to thank her for her kind words.
Thirty minutes later we tried again. This time, I kept telling myself it was okay and Dr. Choo was in the room to talk with me during this second try. The eye once again was pried open, pushed against with a metal fixator in an attempt to stop my eye from moving, and the bandage contact was removed. Again, "look at the light." The contact lens was replaced, and I was told this procedure is not possible for me. Again, I was sent to the recovery room to cry alone. At this point I asked Dr. Choo to get my cell phone and called my mom sobbing. I'm the type to hold my own until alone or with someone I'm close to before I let it all out. However, in this situation, I didn't have anyone else to let it all out to.
Rotational, lateral, and horizontal nystagmus involves short static rapid eye movements, trackable by wavefront technology. However, I even have an abnormal abnormality.
Conclusion: I have large sharp eye movements (nystagmus) that prevent me from focusing on anything, and giving me double vision. And yes, I thought they knew this. Because of said nystagmus, my retina was unable to properly develop during childhood, leaving me with nothing more than a lifetime of low vision, best corrected to 20/40 and 20/50. All this has nothing to do with Ocular Motor Apraxia, which is just a delay of the ocular motor nerve, causing a delay in when my eyes see something and when my brain knows I saw it.
I don't even know what to say about it all. But all this eye junk is the one reason why I never got to do anything and everything I ever wanted to.
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