Instead, they'd come to say thanks.
About 31 years ago, John Allen was born with Down syndrome and keratoconus, an eye disease that causes the cornea, which should be round, to bulge like an egg.
“We were told not to worry,” said his mother, Diane Allen, 69, of Shawnee.
“It wouldn't amount to anything. Watch it, but don't worry.”
She worried anyway. That's what mothers do.
When he was 4 years old, she took John to see his first specialist at the Dean A. McGee Eye Institute. She made sure he wore his eyeglasses from then until adulthood. And she noticed in April when his vision seemed to take a turn for the worse.
“He always had very poor eyesight,” she said.
“But in April he started developing what I thought was a stye. I paid attention to it, and after two days, John was really bad.”
He didn't want to go outside. Any light, even normal household lights, bothered him. He'd sit in a dark corner wearing dark glasses, his head lowered and hands raised to shield his eyes.
They returned to the eye institute. The problem, they learned, was the keratoconus.
It had worsened to the point that John Allen was in danger of going blind, his mother said.
It isn't that keratoconus cannot be treated. About one in 2,000 people is diagnosed with the disease, usually at an early age, according to the National Keratoconus Foundation.
Most are treated with special contact lenses or, in severe cases, with corneal transplants.
Traditional treatments wouldn't work with John Allen, though, because of his Down syndrome.
“You can't squint. You can't touch your eyes. You can't rub them,” Diane Allen said. “John does that all the time, so surgery was out of the question.”
Added his sister, Christina Terneus, 30, of Shawnee: “It's not that he couldn't be fixed; it's that he wouldn't allow it.”
In desperation, Diane Allen took her son to a specialty hospital in Los Angeles, where her sister lives. Doctors examined her son, she said, and told her they couldn't do anything for him.
“I was really upset,” she said. “That was a bleak day. To come all that way and get such bad news, I didn't know what to do.”
Then fate intervened.
‘He's an angel'
Two of Diane Allen's daughters, including Terneus, watched NBC's “Today Show” on the same day.
One segment was about an 18-year-old keratoconus patient whose vision was saved by a novel procedure. Dr. Brian Boxer Wachler, a Beverly Hills, Calif., eye surgeon, had devised a nonsurgical treatment to strengthen corneas; the key features of the procedure are vitamin treatments and exposure to light.
Wachler's method, called Holcomb C3-R, worked wonders on the 18-year-old. The boy had lost all vision in one eye and rapidly was losing sight in the other. By the time he went on NBC, his vision had improved to 20/40.
And Wachler had helped the boy for free.
Terneus and her sister, neither knowing the other was doing so, called Wachler's office that day to set up a consultation. Within a week, their brother visited Wachler for the first time.
With his complications, John Allen's prognosis wasn't as good.
“The doctor said he couldn't improve John's vision,” Diane Allen said, “but he could do C3-R and keep it from ever getting worse.”
The procedure took about 30 minutes.
Friday, John Allen walked alone through a market area at the rowing nationals, punching the buttons on an ATM and holding up shirts to see if they'd fit him.
The room, lined on two sides with glass walls, was brightly lit, yet John didn't cover his eyes or wear sunglasses.
“Now he can open his eyes,” his mother said. “Now he can walk again. Now he can watch TV.”
Among Friday's rowing competitors was Wachler, who won a bronze medal in his age group's single scull category.
Between races, he met with the family.
They thanked him for saving John Allen's vision and for donating his services. Wachler and his patient shared a hug.
“As a young man with Down syndrome,” Wachler said, “John has enough challenges without poor vision. I'm just glad I could help.”
“He's an angel,” Diane Allen said of Wachler. “For the rest of my life, as long I live, he'll be in my prayers. I can never thank him enough.”
