A Visionary With New Vision

I had an inkling that something wrong, but glasses? No. I would never need glasses. So what the words on road signs weren't clear until my car was practically on top of them? People don't read from 10- 20 and 30 feet away on a daily basis. "This eye exam," I thought, "is merely a formality."

As I sat in the waiting room it felt as if I were being stared down by the hundreds of eyeless frames perched one on top of the other in rows across three of the four walls. Some of the shinier, thick, golden Granny specs would catch the track lighting above in a way that made the frames look like they were winking, a cheeky manuever that whispered, "Hey there little girly. You can't run and you can't hide. You're going to need us some day."

I'm called back to an exam room where a technician handed me a black plastic patch on a stick.

"Cover your left eye and read the farthest line down that you are able to read."

I covered my eye, looked down what seemed like a football field's length to the eye chart and immediately had one of those "Oh shhhhnickers," moments. The "E" and the line below it were in extreme double vision, the third line was barely readable and all was lost after that. She wanted me to try reading the fourth line and I fumbled out letters like shots in the dark, squinting and blinking in hopes to somehow smoosh the blurriness into focus.

After the tech dilated my eyes (which was quite an embarrassing endeavor because I kept snapping my head back whenever the drop hit my eye--I really am as skittish as a horse) the doctor came in and proceeded to shine bright pinpointed lights into my eyes, describing my apparently bad astigmatisms as she worked. 

After a few more tests it was officially announced.

"You need glasses."

"Do I have to wear them all the time?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes." 

And so there I was back in front of those walls of frames, trying different ones on, looking in the mirror horrified, trying on another and then looking in the mirror horrified, again. The tech said I looked best--"bohemian chic" even--in a pair of thin, black frames with lenses that are a shape somewhere between a rectangle and an oval. 

I feel like my whole identity has changed and it's going to take some time adjusting to the new look. At first, I couldn't help but think I looked as nerdy as Drew Carey and Steve Urkle (spelling?), but now I am slowly starting to align myself with the Tina Feys....

So much for never needing glasses...

Image courtesy of www.artbyheidi.com