Last year, I finally hit my breaking point with glasses. After 15 years of smudged lenses, foggy mornings, and losing my specs at the worst possible moments, I started researching laser eye surgery. What I discovered completely changed my travel plans—and my vision.
The quotes I got back home in the States were eye-watering: $4,500 to $7,000 for SMILE surgery. My insurance, predictably, covered nothing. Then a colleague mentioned she’d gotten hers done in Shanghai for under $2,500, including flights. I thought she was joking. She wasn’t. Three months later, I was on a plane to China, and I haven’t looked back since—literally or figuratively.
Here’s everything I learned about getting laser eye surgery in China, from someone who actually did it.
The Numbers That Made Me Book My Flight
I’m not going to bury the lead here. When I started comparing the cost of laser eye surgery in China versus what I’d pay at home, the difference was staggering:
Procedure US Price China Price What I Saved SMILE Surgery $5,000-$8,000 $2,150-$3,000 $2,000-$5,850 LASIK $4,000-$6,000 $1,100-$1,400 $2,600-$4,900 ICL Implants $6,000-$8,000/eye $1,920-$3,500/eye $4,080-$4,500/eye
I went with SMILE at Shanghai’s Fudan Eye Hospital for $2,400 total. Even after adding my round-trip flight ($850), hotel for a week ($420), food and transportation ($300), and some tourist activities, my total came to around $4,000. That’s still $1,000 less than the surgery alone would’ve cost in California.
But the real kicker? I wasn’t getting bargain-bin surgery from some sketchy clinic. I was getting treatment at one of the world’s leading eye hospitals, using the same Carl Zeiss equipment my doctor in San Francisco would’ve used.
Why China Isn’t What You’d Expect
I’ll admit, I was nervous at first. Medical tourism to China? It sounded sketchy. But here’s what changed my mind during research.
Chinese surgeons perform more laser eye procedures than doctors in any other country. Like, it’s not even close. The surgeon who operated on me, Prof. Zhou Xingtao, has personally done over 95,000 procedures. The entire Aier Eye Hospital network handles 800,000 patients yearly across their refractive surgery centers. For context, a high-volume surgeon in the US might do 2,000-3,000 procedures in their entire career.
This matters more than you’d think. When your surgeon has seen every possible complication, every weird edge case, every unusual anatomy, they just know what to do. There’s no hesitation, no consulting with colleagues. They’ve literally done this exact procedure thousands of times before.
The technology was another surprise. China often gets new ophthalmic equipment before the US does. Shanghai performed the world’s first SMILE Pro procedure in May 2025 using the VisuMax 800—technology that wasn’t even FDA-approved in America yet. The procedure that used to take 25-30 seconds now takes 10 seconds. Shorter surgery time means less eye strain and faster recovery.
I saw this firsthand when I visited the hospital for my pre-op consultation. Walking through their surgical wing felt like touring a technology showroom. Everything was new, clean, and frankly more advanced than the clinic I’d visited in San Francisco.
My Journey: From Research to Recovery
Finding detailed information on getting laser eye surgery in China as a foreigner took work. Most English resources were vague or outdated. After weeks of research, I put together a plan.
Month 1: Research and Selection
I spent hours comparing hospitals and reading patient reviews. Shanghai Fudan Eye Hospital kept coming up as the gold standard. They’re the Asia-Pacific training center for SMILE surgery, which basically means other surgeons come here to learn. That sold me.
I contacted their international department via email. Response time was about 48 hours, and while the English wasn’t perfect, communication worked fine. They sent me a comprehensive PDF explaining the process, required tests, and pricing.
Month 2: Preparation
The hospital required me to stop wearing contacts 14 days before surgery. This was crucial—contacts reshape your cornea slightly, and measurements need your eye in its natural state. I lived in glasses for two weeks, which honestly reminded me why I wanted surgery in the first place.
I booked everything: flights on China Eastern (cheapest direct option), a hotel near the hospital (the Motel 168 on Huaihai Road—basic but clean and only $60/night), and got my documents ready. As a US citizen, I qualified for China’s 30-day visa-free entry policy, which saved me both time and the $140 visa fee.
Pro tip I learned too late: download Alipay and WeChat Pay before you leave. You’ll need them for literally everything in China, and setting them up from abroad is way easier than doing it there.
Week 1: Arrival and Testing
I flew into Shanghai Pudong on a Tuesday night. Wednesday morning, I headed to Fudan Eye Hospital. The building is massive—this isn’t some small clinic, it’s a major research hospital affiliated with one of China’s top universities.
The testing process took about four hours. They did:
- Corneal topography (mapping the surface of my eye)
- Pachymetry (measuring corneal thickness)
- Wavefront analysis (detecting optical aberrations)
- Pupil dilation and retinal examination
- About six other tests I didn’t fully understand
My cornea measured 560 microns thick—well above the 500-micron minimum for LASIK and good for SMILE. My prescription was -4.25 in my right eye, -4.75 in my left, with slight astigmatism. Perfect candidate, they said.
I met with Prof. Zhou’s team (he doesn’t do all surgeries personally anymore—he’s more administrative now—but his trained surgeons are exceptional). They recommended SMILE over LASIK because I do a lot of cycling and swimming. SMILE is flapless, so there’s no risk of dislodging anything during sports.
We scheduled surgery for Friday morning. They wanted me to have a full day between consultation and procedure, which I appreciated.
Surgery Day: Less Dramatic Than Expected
I won’t lie—I was terrified that morning. I showed up at 7:30 AM to a waiting room full of Chinese patients, most looking way calmer than me.
The actual procedure was bizarre but painless. They numbed my eyes with drops, fitted a speculum to hold my eyelids open (weird sensation but not painful), and positioned me under the laser.
“Look at the green light. Don’t move,” the surgeon said in decent English.
I heard clicking sounds—that was the laser creating the lenticule inside my cornea. Took maybe 10 seconds. Pressure sensation, yes. Pain, no. Then the surgeon made a tiny 2mm incision and removed the lenticule. The whole thing took about 15 minutes for both eyes, including prep time.
Immediately after, my vision was foggy, like looking through wax paper. They gave me dark sunglasses and made me rest in a recovery room for 30 minutes while they monitored me. Then I went back to my hotel, took the prescribed sleeping pill, and slept for six hours.
Recovery: Faster Than I Expected
When I woke up that evening, I could see the clock across the room. Still blurry, but readable. By the next morning, 24 hours post-surgery, I could read street signs from across the road. It was incredible.
I had my first follow-up Saturday morning. The surgeon checked healing, confirmed everything looked perfect, and cleared me for light activity. No swimming or heavy exercise yet, but walking around Shanghai was fine.
The recovery timeline they gave me:
- 24 hours: Functional vision returns
- 1 week: Near-optimal vision (this is where I was by the time I flew home)
- 1 month: Most side effects resolved
- 3 months: Final stabilization
I did experience dry eyes for the first month. I went through bottles of preservative-free artificial tears. Morning and evening were the worst—my eyes felt gritty and uncomfortable. But this is normal, they told me, and it gradually improved.
By week two, I was back at work (I work remotely). By month two, the dry eye was mostly gone. At three months, I had my final checkup with my local optometrist in California. Vision tested at 20/15 in both eyes—better than normal.
The Parts Nobody Talks About
Getting medical care abroad isn’t all sunshine and savings. Here are the challenges I faced:
Language Barriers Were Real
Despite booking a hospital with an “international department,” English support was inconsistent. My surgeon spoke English well enough for medical discussions. The nurses mostly didn’t. Basic instructions worked fine, but having nuanced conversations about concerns or side effects required patience and lots of hand gestures.
In hindsight, I should’ve hired a medical escort. Several companies offer this service—a translator who accompanies you to appointments. Costs about $150-200 for the day, totally worth it for peace of mind.
Payment Was Complicated
I tried to pay with my Visa card. Declined. Tried a different card. Also declined. Ended up using Alipay linked to my US credit card, which worked but added a 3% foreign transaction fee on amounts over ¥200 (about $28).
Wire transfer was an option they offered, but required three business days to clear. I didn’t have that kind of time.
My advice: Set up Alipay and WeChat Pay before you go. Link them to credit cards with no foreign transaction fees (I use Chase Sapphire). This solves 90% of payment headaches in China.
Follow-up Care Required Planning
The hospital wanted to see me at 24 hours, one week, one month, and three months post-surgery. I could only stay for the first two appointments before flying home.
I brought comprehensive medical records back with me—surgical report, pre-op measurements, post-op findings, prescribed medication list (with generic drug names, not just Chinese brands). My optometrist in California could do the one-month and three-month checkups using these records.
One thing I didn’t anticipate: my optometrist charged me $120 for the follow-up exam because it wasn’t a “regular eye exam.” Insurance didn’t cover it. Small price compared to my overall savings, but worth budgeting for.
Would I Do It Again?
Absolutely, without hesitation.
My total out-of-pocket: $3,970 (surgery + travel + recovery costs). I got world-class SMILE surgery using cutting-edge technology from a surgeon with a track record of tens of thousands of successful procedures. I saw Shanghai, ate amazing food, and came home with perfect vision.
The same procedure in San Francisco would’ve cost $5,500 minimum, probably closer to $6,500 after pre-op tests and follow-ups. I saved at least $1,500, got a vacation, and received care that matched or exceeded what I would’ve gotten at home.
The value proposition of laser eye surgery in China isn’t just about the price tag. It’s about accessing expertise and technology that frankly doesn’t exist at this scale anywhere else. Chinese ophthalmologists perform more procedures, see more complications, and work with newer equipment than most Western surgeons ever will.
Things I Wish I’d Known Before Going
1. Timing Matters
I went in September, which turned out to be perfect. Weather was comfortable, the hospital wasn’t overwhelmed with patients, and I avoided major Chinese holidays. Friends who went during Chinese New Year said everything was closed and chaotic. Spring (April-May) or autumn (September-November) are your best windows.
2. Budget More Than Just Surgery
My initial budget only included surgery and flights. I ended up spending way more on accommodation (stayed longer than planned), meals (eating out gets expensive in Shanghai), transportation, and eye care products. Add at least $1,000 buffer to whatever budget you create.
3. Download Everything Before You Go
Google doesn’t work in China. Gmail doesn’t work. WhatsApp doesn’t work. I had a VPN (ExpressVPN) but even that was spotty. Download offline maps, get your Chinese apps set up (Baidu Maps, Alipay, WeChat), and have important documents saved offline.
4. Contact Lens Timing Is Critical
Stop wearing contacts 14 days before surgery for soft lenses, 21 days for hard lenses. Your cornea needs to return to its natural shape. I only stopped 10 days before and they almost rescheduled my surgery. Luckily my cornea recovered enough, but don’t risk it.
5. English Hospitals Cost More, Public Hospitals Cost Less
I chose Fudan (a public research hospital) for the expertise and price. English support was limited but manageable. If language is a bigger concern, EuroEyes in Shanghai has native English speakers on staff and European-trained doctors, but charges $3,200 for the same SMILE procedure. Still cheaper than the US, just less of a bargain.
Getting laser eye surgery in China saved me thousands of dollars while giving me access to some of the world’s best ophthalmologists. Was it more complicated than driving to a local clinic in California? Sure. Did I have to navigate language barriers, payment systems, and unfamiliar healthcare processes? Absolutely.
But when I woke up that first morning after surgery and could read the alarm clock without groping for my glasses, none of that mattered. When I jumped in the pool three months later without worrying about losing my contacts, it felt like freedom.
If you’re considering laser eye surgery and the price at home makes you hesitate, seriously look into China. Do your research, pick a reputable hospital, plan your trip carefully, and budget for the entire experience—not just the procedure. The combination of expertise, technology, and cost makes it one of the best medical tourism opportunities available.
A year later, my vision is still perfect. I spent less than I would’ve at home, got to experience Shanghai, and walked away with 20/15 vision. That’s a deal I’d take every single time.
Want to explore this option yourself? Check out the comprehensive guide on the cost of laser eye surgery in China for detailed hospital comparisons, pricing breakdowns, and everything you need to plan your trip. Your future glasses-free self will thank you.