[Part I can be found here.
Part II can be found here.
Part III can be found here.]
Part III ended with my discovery – just a few days before my scheduled Boston surgery with a doctor whose prognostications for the success of my eye surgery were very gloomy because of the large extent of the adhesions that had stuck my cataract to my iris – of an eye surgeon in Los Angeles specializing in complex cataract surgery. He seemed to have glowing testimonials and excellent credentials, but was this just a slick advertising campaign? I didn’t know, but my next move was to see whether I could get a timely appointment with him, and so the next morning I called his office.
The receptionist was friendly, and the news was better than I’d even hoped for – an appointment about three weeks from my call. I said “yes!” with enthusiasm, and then called the Boston office and canceled. I explained to them that I needed time to reflect on what I was doing – which was certainly true.
And then I emailed the eye surgeon who was a friend of my brother’s, who had been giving me some advice during the decision-making process. I explained to her that I had decided to have the surgery in Los Angeles, that I had in-laws there with whom I could stay, and that the surgeon’s name was Uday Devgan.
I was a bit frightened about what she would write back – would it be something like “don’t go to that quack”? But the gist of her reply was, “He is fantastic. Great choice.”
Great choice. She obviously had already known about him, and I wondered why she hadn’t suggested my going to him when she’d learned I was searching for someone who might be able to tackle my case. But I quickly realized that I hadn’t made it clear to her that I was willing to travel that far, and she had thought I was limiting my search to New England.
Her response was all I need to feel a sense of tremendous relief. I knew that this doctor might not consider me a good candidate. I knew that after he examined me he might be just as pessimistic as the Boston doctor had been. But I also felt very strongly – much as I had felt when I saw Dr. Jobe over twenty years ago for my arm problems (see this as well as this) – that I was going to just about the best person possible to have a much-needed surgery, although of course the risks had not evaporated.
I required help on the trip; for example, I certainly couldn’t drive. My ex-husband kindly consented to go with me (we’re friendly), and it was his brother with whom we were going to stay. And so there was a flurry of preparations to leave in three weeks.
One of the quite unusual and I think amazing things about Dr. Devgan is that if a patient emails him with a question he will answer it by email, and he’ll do so pretty quickly. But I decided not to ask any questions prior to my appointment, because I figured whatever I needed to learn would be revealed after my examination. And so I went to California without knowing what he would decide, but I was at peace with that.
I was still somewhat frightened, but much less frightened than I’d been for many months. I continued to have a good gut feeling about this doctor – a literal gut feeling, because my GI symptoms improved.
In his office the examination took a long time, most of it performed by assistants who were uniformly pleasant and efficient. The doctor himself was cheerful and calm as well as friendly. He told me that my case was indeed more complicated than the usual and would take a bit longer to perform, but he would do it. He radiated a quiet confidence but not arrogance. I was given a surgery date in six days. I think his schedule was probably organized that way because so many people came in from out of town, including many who had come further than I, and the idea was to avoid the necessity of two separate trips.
As the date approached my nervousness increased, but never about the doctor himself, just about the surgery. I’d been told I would be awake but groggy, much like a colonoscopy but with a little more consciousness because more cooperation would be required from the patient. For example, sometimes I would be told to look at some lights, and I had to be aware enough to do that.
And that’s exactly what happened. One of the only things I remember about the surgery itself was being asked several times to look at three bright lights in front of my eye. I also remember something Dr. Devgan said two times during the surgery that made a very deep impression on me – so deep that I remember them, and the feelings they engendered in me, with great clarity. Twice I heard him say, “Beautiful.” These two statements were separated in time, and I knew (or thought I knew) that he meant that he had succeeded in performing some technically challenging maneuver. Each time he said it, I could feel my whole body relax. Through the haze of tranquilizers and numbing agents I had still retained quite a bit of fear, and this was the first time I thought that at the very least he had succeeded in getting that scar tissue cleared, removing my cataract, and inserting the new lens.
The rest remained to be seen – literally.
[To be continued in Part V…]