We know the science. We attend the CE courses. We nod along at the conference presentations, perhaps even circle a few product booths, and return to our practices genuinely convinced that this time, we will build a real myopia management program. And then we don't.
I have been in private practice for over 25 years. I have watched myopia management evolve from a niche conversation to an urgent public health imperative. I have also watched talented, well-intentioned optometrists—myself included, in the early years—fumble the implementation. This happens not because we lacked knowledge, but because we underestimated everything that happens between learning and doing.
After integrating orthokeratology, soft myopia management contact lenses, and spectacle-based interventions into my practice, I have a clearer picture of where programs break down. The failures are almost always the same, and each one is fixable.
#1: Treating Myopia Management as a Product, Rather Than a Protocol
The first and most common mistake is retrofitting myopia management onto an existing exam flow. You learn about ortho-k. You order fitting sets. You wait for the right patient to walk in. When they do, you mention it briefly, almost as an aside. They look uncertain. You move on. The fitting sets collect dust.
This problem is structural. Myopia management is not a product you add to a menu; it is a clinical pathway that requires its own entry point. That means dedicated chair time, a conversation that begins before the exam room, and staff who are fluent enough in the rationale to plant the seed during pretesting.
In my practice, the shift happened when we stopped waiting for the right patient and started creating the right conditions. Every child under 12 who presents with myopia now triggers a specific workflow: axial length measurement, a risk-stratified conversation, and a printed summary the parents take home. The program does not depend on me having a good day. It runs because the system runs.
The fix: Build myopia management into your intake process, not your exam closing. Identify your target demographic, create a pre-exam trigger, and train every team member on the one-sentence explanation they need to prime the conversation.
#2: Letting the Fee Be the Conversation Stopper
Here is a scenario I have seen play out dozens of times, including in my own practice: The clinical case is compelling. The parent is engaged. You present the treatment plan. Then someone—you, your tech, or the front desk—mentions the cost, and the entire energy in the room changes. The parent grows hesitant. You backpedal. The opportunity closes.
We do this because we feel responsible for the patient's financial comfort, which is an admirable instinct. But we often present the cost before we have fully established the value, and cost without context leads to sticker shock.
The conversation must build before the number lands. When a parent understands that their child’s myopia progressing at -0.75 D per year carries a meaningfully higher lifetime risk of retinal pathology, glaucoma, and vision-threatening complications, the fee for intervention reframes itself. You are not selling a contact lens modality. You are offering a risk reduction strategy for their child's long-term visual health.
The fix: Lead with the why before you lead with the what. Use axial length data and progression trends as your clinical anchor. Then present fees in the context of what has already been established: a child with documented risk who deserves evidence-based intervention. The number becomes part of a plan, not a surprise at the end of a visit.
#3: Offering Options Without Offering Guidance
Informed consent has become informed overwhelm in many myopia management conversations. We present ortho-k, soft myopia lenses, low-dose atropine, and now spectacle-based options—along with a review of the evidence for each—and then ask the parent to choose. The parent, who came in expecting a prescription update, now feels the pressure of a consequential medical decision they are not equipped to make alone. Many choose to "think about it." Most do not come back to the conversation.
Presenting options is not the same as giving guidance. Patients and families want to know what you recommend. They want you to apply your expertise to their specific situation, not a menu of equally weighted choices handed back to them.
In practice, this means having a clear clinical framework for which modality fits which patient. Age, prescription, lifestyle, compliance history, and parental engagement all factor in. When I introduce ortho-k to a family, for example, I do not present it alongside 3 alternatives and ask them to weigh the evidence. I say: "Based on what I know about your daughter, this is what I recommend, and here is why." I still explain the other options, but I lead with a recommendation.
The fix: Develop your own patient-matching criteria and make your recommendation explicit. Shared decision-making is valuable; diffused responsibility is not. Your patients chose you because they trust your judgment. Let them see it.
The Common Thread
What ties these 3 failures together is the gap between clinical competence and implementation confidence. We learn the science in lecture halls and then return to practices that were built around a different care model. The evidence for myopia management is no longer in question. The question is whether private practice ODs can build the clinical, conversational, and operational systems to actually deliver it.
I believe we can. In fact, I believe independent private practice is better positioned to deliver meaningful myopia management than any corporate model, precisely because we control the experience from intake to follow-up. We are not managing patient volume. We are managing relationships.
The tools are not the problem. The tools are excellent. The protocols are not the problem either; the science has never been stronger. The problem, in most practices, is a handful of fixable gaps in how we set up the program, how we talk about the cost, and how we guide families to a decision. Fix those, and the rest follows. OM


