Northwoods UU

Dead Table Meeting

April 19, 2026

As a disabled veteran and a diabetic, I have been required to have the annual diabetic eye exam since 2014, when I was initially established in the Agent Orange Registry. Each year, the optometry technician at the Tomball VA Clinic would tell me that the lens of my eyes were showing signs of damage from age and direct sunlight, but no action was needed at those times.

In the late summer of 2022, after our visiting grandchildren and other close family members had returned to Kansas, I realized that my visual acuity had declined, and at age 75, I was finally going to need cataract surgery, as many senior citizens do. I realized this during the grandkids’ visit, as we drove all over the Houston area, especially at night, that I had to keep asking them to read the traffic signs for me.

I visited Dr. Sachs, the local optometrist at Woodlands Vision Center on Sawdust Road, where Judy and I had gone for all our vision needs over the past 30 years. He confirmed that my vision had reached the low threshold of visual acuity that qualified me for cataract surgery according to the Medicare guidelines. He referred me to what he called the best eye clinic in the area and encouraged me to schedule with them. Upon contacting them, I found it would be several months before I could get in to see them, so I contacted Houston Eye Associates on Research Forest in The Woodlands and made an appointment within a reasonable time. They gave me several exams using various specialized equipment.

Finally, the doctor told me that I definitely needed cataract surgery, but my vision after cataract surgery would not be satisfactory because an eye disease, known as Fuchs Dystrophy, had caused the corneas of my eyes to retain excess fluid, making them too thick and impairing my vision.

Here is a link to an article by the American Academy of Ophthalmology about Fuchs Dystrophy:

What Is Fuchs' Dystrophy? - American Academy of Ophthalmology

The Ophthalmologist indicated that the condition might ultimately require corneal transplant surgery. However, I was advised to start a six-month course of specialized ophthalmic drops, which could potentially decrease the fluid-related thickening of the corneas.  After six months we could check to see if the less invasive approach had worked. It didn’t work. Another, more senior surgeon repeated the same eye exams and confirmed the earlier findings. His advice was that I shouldn’t feel rushed to make a decision about surgery; that I could wait until I felt certain about it.

Meanwhile, my annual diabetic eye exam was scheduled at the Tomball VA Clinic. As luck would have it, the technician position there had been upgraded to a Doctor of Optometry. I related to her my diagnosis of Fuchs Dystrophy and was surprised by her response. She asked why I would go to a private eye clinic when the eye clinic at the Michael E. DeBakey Veteran’s Hospital in The Texas Medical Center was one of the best in the country because of their close relationship with the Baylor College of Medicine. She told me the DeBakey Eye Clinic in the Texas Medical Center exclusively partnered with the Baylor College of Medicine, allowing graduate eye surgeons to do their internships at the DeBakey Eye Clinic. So, I never went back to Houston Eye Associates.

I am grateful to the optometrist at the Tomball VA Clinic for sharing with me about the excellent eye clinic available to me through the Veteran’s Administration. I did contact them and scheduled an initial appointment on February 15, 2024.

During the initial visit, two young male interns processed me through a very thorough series of exams just as the Houston Eye Associates had done and came to the same conclusion. It was at this moment that a woman came into the room where I sat with the two interns. The interns had apparently already reviewed my case with that woman and had recommended corneal transplant surgery.  As she began to address me in a most kind and professional voice, I could tell that she held a leadership position in the Michael E. Debakey Eye Clinic. Not to be racist or inappropriate about cultures of the world, but I assumed by her appearance and her voice that her heritage or family background was of the Middle East, perhaps Iran, Pakistan, or such a country in that region. She spoke directly to me in a voice of confidence and authority, saying that they would schedule me for surgery the following month and that I should be confident that I will be in the excellent care of their highly trained staff.

On March 15, 2024, I met with the intern surgeon, who was going to perform the surgery, to cover all the preparatory steps to be taken prior to reporting for surgery on Thursday, March 21, 2024. This intern was a very personable young man perhaps of Asia-Pacific heritage. His professional manner gave me a feeling of confidence about the coming eye surgery. I do have to admit that thoughts of someone cutting on my eyes was a very unpleasant thing to consider. Yet, based on my brief experiences with the clinic staff, I did believe that choosing surgery through the VA was a safe and smart decision

On March 21, 2024, Judy and I arrived by Uber from a nearby hotel on a dark rainy morning before dawn. I reported to the wheelchair room just off the main lobby of the huge Houston VA Hospital. They got me into a wheelchair and guided Judy and me up to the surgical floor which was already filling up the 40 or more curtained cubicle beds and began the customary connections and procedures to prepare me for the procedure which was to be done on my right eye. While all that was happening, that woman, the authoritative doctor who had so warmly assured me that they would take good care of me popped through the curtain. And asked how I was doing. Then she took out a marker and made a mark above the eye to be operated on. After a warm pat on my arm and calming words she moved on.

Then it was time for the surgery.  They wheeled me through some corridors to an operating room. The nurses and attendants were each very upbeat and talkative in response to my attempts at humor.

The medications were effective and had me feeling rather calm. However, I was surprised when two masked doctors approached and immediately began to work on me. I thought, “Wait a minute. Aren’t I supposed to be asleep, unconscious, and totally unaware of what was taking place?” It soon became apparent that I was going to lie there awake hearing the ongoing conversations between the two doctors as they proceeded with the surgery while describing each step they were taking.

As the two surgeons began working, I immediately recognized the confident voice of that woman, the one who was the leader at the DeBakey Eye Clinic. From the nature and tone of their technical conversation, it was clear she was the teacher and the young intern the student.

First, and very quickly, they replaced the lens. Then they stripped away defective tissue from the inner wall of the cornea. Next, I heard them discuss retrieving the donor tissue from the refrigerator. After inserting the tissue into the eye, she instructed the intern to unroll it and center it over the Iris. After smoothing it out against the freshly exposed back surface of the cornea, they injected a gas bubble into the eye to hold the graft firmly in place. It was done and they wheeled me back to a spot in that very large room of beds where I would begin the recovery.

Soon Judy was there and before long we were dismissed with strict instructions for the next 24 hours during which time I was to lay flat on my back until returning for follow-up the next day.

A blue plastic eye shield had been taped over the eye. That device would become the focus of a nightly bedtime ritual to manage the strips of tape that held it in place. Another important part of my recovery was putting various eye drops into the surgery eye.

Each day, I wondered when I would begin to regain vision in that eye. I never saw that intern surgeon again, the one who performed the surgery. Instead, I was seen by a very fit, athletic looking young woman named Doctor Martin. I tried but failed to stop myself from calling her Doc Martin, remembering the boots our daughter wore as a teen. She was obviously not amused as she’d heard it all before. But she was very pleasant and expressed concern about the condition of the grafted tissue.

So, she had the technicians use a special camera to view the graft. This examination revealed that the graft had not fully adhered to the surface. At that moment Doc Martin said, “We need to insert an air bubble into the eye to press the graft more firmly against the corneal wall”. I wondered how that could be done.

I followed Doc Martin back to the exam room which looks like any other optometrist room. Then she called a more senior doctor to assist her. She told me they could insert an air bubble right there in the exam chair. Judy was sitting in an office chair beside me.  We looked at each other nervously, wondering how this was going to go.

After what seemed like a long wait, the other doctor arrived. She looked to be in her 50s and brought an air of confidence into the situation. They told me to place my chin into that plastic cup that is a standard feature of optometry equipment. They asked me to remain very still as they came at me with a needle. But they paused for a minute to discuss the appropriate size or type of needle to use. I tried my best not to move but they continued to request that I keep my chin in the cup and not move as they manipulated the needle in my eye. Finally, Doc Martin said “There it is, good job” as she withdrew the needle and I felt  some fluid splash onto my cheek. There was no pain, just a very weird feeling to have a needle in my eye.

At this time my recovery was, in some ways, starting over. The coming weeks were a time of worry and concern about how this process would play out. Vision slowly began to return but was dim and blurred. Each follow-up appointment showed that my vision was improving but was still not real good. Then one day, about two months after surgery, I began to see some bright colorful patches of vision that felt like a breakthrough. From that point the vision in my right eye became better each day. I was amazed at how bright, colorful, and clear everything seemed. I began to ask the doctors when I would be scheduled to have the other eye done. They told me to be patient.

In July, a different intern began to see me for follow-ups. I was very impressed with this bright young woman. Based on her charming yet professional manner I got the impression that she must have always been the smartest kid in her classes. She looked very young, not flashy, but exuded the image of an attractive, confident professional.

She scheduled the surgery on my left eye for August 15, 2024. The preparation routine this time was like the first surgery. When the surgery started, again, two masked surgeons initiated the procedure by forcefully taping my head down to the table. Right away, I detected a difference in the interactions between the new Baylor intern surgeon and the older leading surgeon. This intern needed little direction and seemed more skillful and forceful than the first. One of the first steps, after taping my head down, was to insert a plastic device under the upper and lower eyelids. That sweet delicate intern wasn’t tentative. I felt the strength of her hands as she quickly pushed the device in place. On the previous occasion, the male intern had seemed to struggle a little inserting that plastic device used to keep the eyelids away from the eyeball.

During the procedure the intern needed very little input from the lead VA surgeon. The recovery and follow-up process went very smoothly. I think having had the first surgery already made this second one easier and less mysterious. Over the next couple of months, the vision in the left came back very well.

As my eyes fully healed, subsequent visual exams showed that I have 20/20 vision except for an astigmatism in my left eye that has always been there and not associated with the cornea. Now I only need glasses for reading after having worn thick glasses for years. Every day, I am reminded of just how fortunate I am to have had those cornea surgeries. Making this success even more meaningful is the fact that my father lost his right eye in a freak accident when he was 25 years old. That loss had a negative impact on his career and life.  But he adapted well and developed a new career path.

Disclaimer: This is a true story of my personal experience with Fuchs Dystrophy eye disease and the cornea transplant surgeries that corrected my vision.  I have no medical training.  My recollection of these events may be inaccurate due to the passage of time and the fact that I was under sedation during the procedures.