Erica Singley, Cornea Recipient

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I wouldn’t have been able to look the world straight in the eye if I hadn’t been given the gift of sight.

My story starts in the summer of 1979, in Freeport, IL at the age of 5 when I had my kindergarten physical. The pediatrician noticed that something was wrong with my right eye and scheduled an appointment with the local Ophthalmologist that day. The Ophthalmologist then referred me to a specialist Dr. Brightbill at the UW of Madison Hospital in Madison, Wisconsin because there was something obviously wrong.

The first appointment, Dr. Brightbill went through a process of elimination to figure out what happened to my eye. It came back to the time I had the chicken pox 2 months prior to my kindergarten physical. A common viral infection that children got and a form of the herpes virus.

With the virus active in my right eye, the first step of treatment was to clear it up with drops and steroids. I had doctor’s appointment once a month for several months until the virus cleared up and then the appointments became every 3 to 6 months.

When I was approximately 7 years old, Dr. Brightbill alarmed my parents that I would eventually need a cornea transplant because the cornea had been scared from the virus. The idea of a transplant was not new to my family. My grandfather had been on dialysis and received a kidney transplant in 1976. Who knew that our family would be blessed for a second time?

As I got older, the scarred tissue made my eye look cloudy. The cloudiness became visible and questions were being asked from friends & family. I never felt different or uncomfortable… I kind of liked the attention!

The summer of 1984, at the age of 10, I had my routine appointment. At that time, Dr. Brightbill recommended that the transplant should happen sooner than later because the scarred tissue is now changing the shape of my eye. It will become disfigured the longer we waited. With tears in their eyes, my parents made the decision to do the transplant and I was placed on the transplant list that day. The hospital would call when the donor tissue was available.

My mom received the call on Monday, December 3, 1984, 6 months after being placed on the transplant list. We had to be up in Madison that afternoon. With both of my parents working 25 minutes away from my school, living approximately an hour and half away from Madison, not prepared to stay in the hospital & hotel for the week… my parents had their hands full that morning. Even though that day was stressful, my mom gave me one of my Christmas presents early to take to the hospital – this Good Luck Care Bear!

Once we arrived at the hospital and did the normal registration, I went through surgery prep and an eye exam. During the exam, I was not able to see the top letter on the eye chart. My vision was now 20/300 the night before surgery.

Tuesday, December 4, was the day of surgery. I was crying to go home. My parents wanted to take me home but knew this was the best thing for me. To make me feel more at ease, the medical team allowed me to take my Good Luck Care Bear with me to surgery. I help my bear tight as I was wheeled to the holding room where I said good bye to my parents. Surgery lasted a hour and when I woke up in recovery my bear is laying right by my head.

At this point, the transplant was successful. My vision was restored to 20/50 without corrective leans. Finally, there was some relief that the journey was over. My right eye is slightly smaller than the left but my big brown eyes are still my best feature and they can always tell a story now.

At the end of the journey, my parents received a letter from the Lion’s Eye Bank of Wisconsin to inform us that the donor was a 21 year old male.

My life continued to be normal after the transplant and I didn’t think about my donor on a daily basis. However, when something came up… he always seemed to be the first person I thought of. For example, my senior thesis paper was about the controversy of organ & tissue donation and dedicated my paper to my grandfather and the man who saved my eye sight, John Doe. As I went through management classes or interviews, I was asked “who is my hero?” My answer was always the same, the man who saved my eye sight. But it wasn’t until 5 years ago that it became my mission to learn more about my donor.

As days go by and as I get older, my mind wonders about the person who I have called my hero for years. He has never been far from my thoughts but I feel empty, empty that I have not given something back, at least a thank you to someone who was so kind to give to me.

The display of courage and self-sacrifice that my hero and the family members that gave permission to donate his cornea is unforgettable. I feel honored to carry such a great gift for the last 30 years. It is a gift that is rare to come by from a person I will never know.

I would have been honored to have met his family however that chance will never happen. My letter was returned not deliverable. I knew deep inside that I wouldn’t meet them after all these years but I had to try or my mind would still wonder who was he, who was my hero?

Even though I will never meet him or his family, my donor has given me a purpose now to carry on his legacy, spirit, and vision through my eyes as well as to celebrate his life and the gift of sight that he has given me by doing what I’m doing here today… by telling my story.