“So most of the tests we ran were okay…”

My heart sank to my stomach as I waited for the inevitable “but” that was about to come.

“But the endothelial cell count in your cornea is pretty low for someone your age”

The doctor then proceeded to give a thorough explanation of what that meant, what causes it, and the implications on the ICL surgery I had been looking forward to getting for the past few months.

“Bottom line is, don’t get ICL or anything done to your eyes. And don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise, unless you want to destabilise your eyes even further. You’ll also need to come back every year for us to check on your eyes as a precaution ”

I walked out of the room, tears already forming behind my eyes, threatening to spill over as I closed the door behind me. 

It seems so petty, so trivial, to feel so affected by something like losing the option to live glasses-free. But to me it felt like a sucker punch to the gut.

“Why not just wear contacts?“, you’d probably be asking at this point.

My eyes have historically been dry – we’re talking Sahara desert dry. Which makes wearing contacts daily not only impractical, but painful. I’d wake up with teary eyes, blurry vision, and feeling like something was always in my eye when blinking after wearing contacts for just a few hours the day before. I later found out through a consultation with the eye specialist that there was a name for this condition: corneal abrasion.

I’d contemplated getting LASIK as far back as my mid twenties, after hearing success stories from friends who’d done it and walked around glasses-free after. However, upon assessment back in 2018, I was told that I wasn’t able undergo the procedure as my myopia was too severe, and that it would further exacerbate my already dry eyes. Feeling defeated, I left that idea behind, and resigned myself to the fact that I would probably have to wear glasses for the rest of my life.

“But what’s wrong with wearing glasses?”, you ask.

Nothing! I’ve gotten very used to them, having worn them for the better part of 24 years of my life. I’m generally not a very anxious person but growing up, trips to the optician or optometrists were always anxiety-inducing for little old me. My vision started blurring at the age of 6, and every eye test from then on up until my early twenties usually meant an increase in my myopia, and consequently, thicker lenses. Now, as much as some people look really cool and smart and Clark Kent-y wearing glasses, my four-eyed friends will understand when I say that higher myopia = thicker lenses = more face distortion. It’s one of those things that doesn’t seem obvious until someone mentions it, and then that’s all you can see. And trust me when I say my myopia is high.

Fast-forward to late 2023 when my mum passed me a brochure about this relatively new procedure called ICL.

Read: ICL surgery (also known as Implantable Collamer or Interocular Contact Lens) is an alternative to LASIK. During the procedure, an eye surgeon implants lenses permanently into your eyes.

More importantly, it was suitable for people with high myopia and dry eyes (me! yay!). I could feel a little glimmer of hope starting to form.

My initial assessment went swimmingly, and I scheduled a follow up appointment with the doctor under the presumption that I was already scheduling the procedure itself. Turns out they needed to run more tests on me to be absolutely certain I was eligible, and based on what you’ve read in the earlier part of my post, this clearly wasn’t the case.

It’s been a few weeks now since the doctor broke the news to me. I’m no longer as upset as I was coming out of the consultation room, and while it still sucks knowing that my eye health is on a downward spiral (corneal transplant at 50 anyone?), I’m genuinely grateful I’m able to see at all.