A different kind of Christmas – report from Monday, January 21, 2013

January 20, 2013 A Different Kind of Christmas About four years ago, my brother underwent laser eye surgery, which was organized through SwissLasik. From that point on, I considered doing the same. During this long period, the topic became very relevant again in 2012, and I decided to take the plunge. I began researching the surgery and SwissLasik and contacted the organizer, Mr. Serdar Karaagacli. Right up until the surgery, Mr. Karaagacli answered my emails promptly and to my complete satisfaction. I decided to have the surgery on December 25, 2012. Everything was organized by SwissLasik through the premium package I booked. This allowed me to focus on personally preparing for the eye surgery. In the autumn before the procedure and booking my trip, I visited the ophthalmologist in Arbon for a preliminary examination. The examination included several tests to determine whether a LASIK/LASEK procedure was feasible. The ophthalmologist gave me the go-ahead and forwarded all the results to SwissLasik. I would recommend the preliminary examination to anyone who wants to be on the safe side. After I decided to have laser eye surgery, my friends and family gradually found out. Some seemed very surprised, alarmed, and even shocked by where the procedure was being performed. Prejudices and skepticism arose, which I didn’t let bother me at all. I attribute these reactions, among other things, to people’s lack of knowledge and the experiences we see in the media. It’s always interesting to hear about things that didn’t work and were botched. I wanted to explicitly mention this for everyone who is burdened by prejudice and wants to overcome it. Of course, something can always go wrong with such a procedure; a residual risk remains, as with any other surgery, whether in Switzerland or elsewhere. Furthermore, there is always the individual’s own contribution to achieving the best possible result (for example, following the instructions of the medical professionals). My motivation for the surgery stemmed primarily from the successful outcome of my brother’s procedure, and personally, I had long desired a life without glasses. The prospect of a new quality of life was the deciding factor for me. Finally, the price was also very attractive. The procedure, including travel for two, cost me about a third of the total amount I would have had to pay in Switzerland. However, the quality had to be paramount. After a whirlwind of emotions—a mixture of joy and nervousness, and thoughts of “what if”—my brother and I set off for Istanbul on December 24, 2012. At Istanbul airport, we were met by a driver who navigated us through the chaotic city streets to the Hotel Levent. The following day, the day of reckoning, we were picked up at the agreed-upon time and taken to the modern Acibadem Clinic. At the entrance, the translator greeted us and explained all the subsequent steps in detail. Later, several tests were conducted (as had already been done during the preliminary examination in Switzerland). Afterward, we had a consultation with the doctor, Dr. Banu Cosar. I was able to ask her some remaining questions. She also asked me to read the large letters on the wall without my glasses, which was rather difficult with a correction of -5 diopters in both eyes. Admittedly, I just saw the light on the wall and not a single letter. The tests were finished shortly before noon. Everything went very quickly. I was initially quite taken aback by the speed at which the doctors conducted the tests. However, I never once felt that the tests weren’t being carried out correctly. On the contrary. Because several such operations take place daily, the staff has a wealth of experience and is very competent, friendly, and courteous. There was still enough time before the surgery to buy some nice things at the nearby shopping center. The translator ordered a taxi, which took us there. The translator wasn’t just a translator, but coordinated the patients’ appointments. In the afternoon, we arrived at the clinic at the appointed time. I had to read and sign an agreement. I found the timing a bit tricky, as I was just about to have the procedure and my adrenaline was already pumping. Later, at my own request, I was given a sedative. Shortly before the 10-minute procedure, I received drops, a smart little cap, a gown, and shoe covers. I waited until the woman before me had finished her procedure, and then I had my own…
It was quite an experience to lie down on the operating table. The translator was also present. He translated everything the doctor explained to me. My only task was to relax and look into the red light. Then the area around my eyes was disinfected and sterilized. The eye clamp fixed the entire eye so that I couldn’t blink. The eye was kept very moist throughout the entire operation. After that, the actual procedure began. The same process was then repeated for the other eye. The procedure was over more quickly than expected. I then got up with the translator’s help, put on the dark glasses, and stayed in the darkened room. After the operation, I had trouble opening my eyes again because the sedative was still affecting me. A little later, I had a follow-up examination with the doctor. She asked me to take off the darkened glasses and read the letters on the wall again. And there it was, a “K”! A big, bold “K”! I could also read the smaller letters without any difficulty. What a feeling, simply wonderful! I slept the entire bus ride back to the hotel. Once there, I took the prescribed eye drops, which I had received at the clinic along with detailed instructions. My eyes felt rather dry and scratchy after the operation. After the prescribed rest (closing my eyes for four hours), we went out for something to eat. I was still a bit unsteady on my feet and had pain when looking around. Therefore, I was very glad to have my companion. The following day, and after a few more eye drops, another follow-up examination took place. The doctor’s report was entirely positive. Before leaving, I was still wondering where to put my glasses so they wouldn’t break. But I don’t need them anymore; I could just as easily have let a truck run them over. Now it was time to get used to my new life without glasses, and that’s not such an easy task, considering that I’ve worn corrective lenses for about two-thirds of my life. Even many days later, I still find myself wanting to adjust or take off my glasses. These are mechanisms that have become ingrained over the years. I’m talking about a minor, first-world problem, and about luxury in the sense of a new lease on life. Fabienne P.