Malta’s St Thomas Hospital Unveils ‘Miracle’ Eye Lens That Lets Pensioners Ditch Glasses Forever

St Thomas Hospital Eye Clinic introduces ‘life changing’ new lens implants
By Hot Malta Staff | 09 June 2025, 07:00

Żejtun’s parish priest jokingly calls it “the miracle on Triq il-Kbira,” but for the 73-year-old fisherman from Marsaxlokk who regained perfect vision after 40 years of trawling at dawn, the new lens-implant programme at St Thomas Hospital Eye Clinic is no laughing matter. Last week the 200-year-old former British military hospital—now Malta’s only independent, non-profit tertiary care centre—quietly began offering next-generation “EDOF” (Extended Depth of Focus) intra-ocular lenses, turning the sleepy southern town into an unexpected beacon for eye-care tourism and giving local pensioners a reason to postpone that dreaded move to the UK “to be nearer the kids.”

The €1.2 million upgrade, financed jointly by the Mariam Al-Batool Foundation and a flurry of Żejtun feast-day bingo marathons, means Maltese patients no longer have to book €4,000-a-eye surgery in London or Sicily. Instead, they can walk beneath the clinic’s honey-coloured limestone arches, clutch a warm pastizz from the kiosk outside, and emerge 20 minutes later with reading vision sharp enough to thread a needle while counting the coins for the bus home.

“Cataracts have always been part of Maltese life—our grandparents accepted cloudy vision the way they accepted ration cards,” says ophthalmic surgeon Dr Graziella Azzopardi, who trained at Moorfields before returning to the island. “But these lenses don’t just replace the cloudy natural lens; they give you seamless focus from your mobile screen to the horizon. Patients tell me they can finally see the individual fishing boats on the inlet, not just a blur of primary colours.”

Cultural ripple effects are already visible. At the band club, 68-year-old trumpet player Ġorġ “il-Bibi” Camilleri has swapped his magnifying glasses for a new EDOF implant and can read the musical score of the 1899 funeral march without squinting. “We’re performing in the feast of St Catherine next month—first time I’ll hit the high C without guessing,” he grins. Meanwhile, the village’s lace-making cooperative in Birgu reports a 30 % surge in orders since three veteran għonnella-makers had the procedure and can once again count the 1 mm stitches that make Maltese lace UNESCO-listed.

Tourism operators are taking note. Health-travel agency MaltaMed has packaged the surgery with a seven-day farmhouse stay in Gozo, including a traditional fenkata and a sunset boat ride to the Blue Lagoon. “Brits and Germans are flying in on low-cost fares, combining a holiday with ten-minute eye surgery,” says CEO Claire Busuttil. “It’s cheaper than Prague, and you get sun.”

Yet the biggest winners may be ordinary Maltese families. With 28 % of over-65s living below the at-risk-of-poverty line, the clinic offers a sliding scale: EU pensioners pay €750 per eye, while holders of the kartanzjan get an additional €200 rebate funded by the national Good Causes lottery. “We’ve capped profit at 8 %,” insists hospital director Martin Bugelli. “Any surplus goes to diabetic retinopathy screening in schools.”

Opposition health spokesperson Adrian Delia praised the initiative but urged government to extend the rebate to younger patients with high myopia. “Malta has one of Europe’s highest rates of severe short-sightedness—blame our bookish kids and lack of outdoor daylight in over-built towns,” he told parliament yesterday. Health Minister Jo Etienne Abela responded that a national strategy will be unveiled in October, hinting at public-private partnerships modelled on St Thomas.

Back in the clinic’s pre-op lounge, former Air Malta pilot Ray Pace leafs through a well-thumbed copy of Il-Mument while waiting for his second eye. “I used to land at Luqa by instruments; now I can see the ħobż biż-żejt crumbs on the runway,” he laughs. Nurse Marika hands him a small cardboard box containing his old spectacles. “Frame them,” she says. “You’ll need them for nostalgia, not sight.”

As the noonAngelus tolls from St Catherine’s basilica, a stream of band marchers rehearses outside, their polished brass glinting in the June sun. Inside, the theatre list rolls on—twelve locals, three Italians, one Norwegian travel blogger who live-streamed the entire procedure. By closing time, 24 eyes have been upgraded, 24 futures sharpened. In a country where village feasts are measured by fireworks decibels and roasted rabbit portions, St Thomas has quietly added a new metric: the clarity with which a 90-year-old can see her great-grandson’s first żaqq drum solo. And in Malta, that is nothing short of miraculous.