Some years ago, I realized I needed glasses. I had spent my youth with vision problems
without realizing what was wrong.
Actually, I had constant headaches, but I had never associated it with
my poor vision. In my late teens I was
given a position with a company where I had to read fine print on a checklist
for products being shipped out. I made a
few mistakes, which ultimately led to a vision exam. The eye doctor commented that I had enough
astigmatism for an entire family, and when he corrected my vision through the
machine thing I was looking through, I realized my problem. The idea of ‘two eyes, two objects’ suddenly
was no longer valid. Thus came the first
set of glasses.
This first pair of glasses was for me a learning curve. Actually, it was more like a spiral. Downward.
I had always known the object on the left was a false image allowing me
to walk through it. But there was no
longer an image on the left. I walked
into people, walls, doors, and just about anything else in front of me,
although as time went on, I learned and adjusted to this new vision.
Over the years I changed prescriptions several times, with
my true vision degenerating steadily. My
eye doctor told me I was just keeping ahead of technology by only a small
amount, meaning my eyesight was barely correctible each time I visited him,
even though it was always a bit worse than the last time I was in. And after each adjustment in the
prescription, there was another learning curve.
At some point I decided to not get new glasses until I couldn’t read the
citation I was issued for running the stop sign I didn't see.
Then came the bifocals.
Such fun. After my first fitting,
I was afraid to walk, as someone had moved the floor somewhere else. I took short slow steps, each time feeling
with my feet to see if the floor was still there. I made it out of the doctor's office only to
be confronted with a curb. Even though I
could see the curb, the step down to the level of the parking lot appeared to
be about 75 feet. I was literally afraid
to take the step. I got down on my hands
and knees and felt the distance with my hands before swinging my legs over the
edge. Well, I felt like an idiot,
especially after I changed back to my old glasses and realized how many people
were watching me.
It only took a couple of weeks to adjust to my new reality,
and I was very happy about not having to struggle to read a book. The only problem was that it was time to
renew my driver’s license. At the DMV I
could not read the eye chart. It was
just too blurry. Back to the eye
doctor.
“David, your eyes are corrected as much as technology can
correct them. With three points or axis
of astigmatism in each eye and a near-sighted vision of 20/180, it’s almost a
miracle just to keep you from being legally blind. I went back to the DMV with a note from the
doctor, and, reluctantly, they renewed my license. Two years later I was fitted with
trifocals. And it began again.
It was always obvious to everyone when my prescription
changed. 1) My lenses would be thicker,
and 2) I would be covered in bruises.
Ultimately the progressive lenses arrived. And I was in love. I could almost see, even though my lenses
were so heavy my glasses would cut into the top of my nose. Lightweight lenses were not around back
then.
About 12 or so years ago I realized everything was turning a
foggy brown. I put up with it for a
while, but eventually I had to have cataract surgery. First up the right eye. After it was over and I spent a couple of
weeks recovering, my doctor did the left eye.
Wow! What a difference! Colors
were brighter, and my vision was significantly better. Not perfect, but I no longer was at the edge
of technology.
In the 10 or so years
since my surgery, my vision has changed very little. I still wear glasses for near sightedness
(not completely correctable during the surgery), and for a bit of uncorrectable
astigmatism. However, now when I walk
into a wall, it’s not because I can’t see.
I chalk it up to moving walls.
