For a few months now, I’ve been having some trouble seeing my computer monitor at school and have been struggling to find a good distance to hold my phone away from my face so that I can read it. Even my principal noticed and has made a comment about me “squinting again” at my machine. So I bit the bullet and made an appointment with an eye doctor.
I was in denial. I knew that whatever was happening with my vision was just in my head and that my 20/20 baby blues would be just fine. Maybe. Maaaaaaaybe I miiiiiiight need a pair of glasses for when I was on the computer. Maybe. But probably not even that. The doc was totally just going to tell me that if I did something, like, I dunno, look down, blink twice, then look back up I’d be fine. Perhaps he’d joking tell me that I needed to eat more carrots and we would totally have a laugh as he collected my copay and sent me on my way.
Nope. He gives me my exam… I haven’t had an eye exam since, oh, high school?!… then goes through that whole “is this better? is this better? is this better?” routine. (Which sucks by the way. My eyeballs hurt when that whole situation ended and I’m still not sure I got the answers right.) We finish up, I sit back in my chair and he drops this piece of garbage on me: “You need bifocals.”
Say, what, now?
I’ve never had glasses before. I’ve made it 42 years without them. So how does one go from a non-glasses person to a BIFOCALS person?! “Do you have any questions?”, he asks me. DO I HAVE ANY QUESTIONS?! Um, ya, does “What the hell??” count? Bifocals. Honestly that word is still ringing in my ears.
So he says I do have an option and explains that I could just get glasses for when I’m on my computer or phone, but that would require a world where I would constantly be taking glasses on and off my face. With the nature of my job, that’s really just not an option for me. Plus, he said with my vision, bifocals (seriously, what a gross word) would truly be his recommendation.
“I’M NOT GETTING THE LINE!”. Those were the next words to fly out of my mouth. Good Lord. Looking back, I truly hope I was being nice to the doc. It’s not his fault I had my 82nd birthday while sitting in the exam room. He explains to me that they make lenses in a “blend” now and that “the line” wasn’t a requirement. He said it would take me some getting used to, tho, and that I’d have to really keep them on and not give up on them for a solid 3-4 days. He said some people decide too soon that they can’t deal with bifocals (that word. barf.) and that I should really try to make them work. Fantastic.
Next up, trying on glasses. I’m honestly still in shock at this point. The really nice lady helping me acknowledged that she knows I’ve never worn glasses before, but then proceeded to fire questions at me about whether I want a nose pad or not and some other questions that a non-glasses-for-42-years person wouldn’t fully understand. She kindly explained everything and showed me examples. She was very good at her job, as the first pair of glasses she suggested for me are the ones I went with.
“Is there anything you require or need with these glasses?”, she asked me as we prepared for the fitting. I fired back with “That they go on someone else’s face.” We laughed. Honestly, I’m still in shock. We went over options like “anti-glare”, “plastic or glass” (no, I didn’t squeeze them to see the difference #CallBackJoke), and a third option that I’m not remembering right now. She let me test drive “the line” vs “the blend”. Time wasted. NO LINE. “That’s going to cost more money.” Yep. And I. Don’t. Care. I’ll have a bake sale to pay for the upgrade. I’m NOT doing a line. We finish the fitting and she tells me that it will take 7-10 days for them to come in, to which I reply, “Seriously. Take your time.”
I’m not entirely sure why I’m taking this latest development so harshly. Well, maybe I do. This is the first time, ever, really, that I feel… OLD. (OK, that one time when a 4th grader told me I was wearing the same shirt as her grandma did hurt a bit, too.) But this was the first time a doctor… a medical doctor… in his professional opinion… DIAGNOSED me as old. It was a bit of a gut punch and not at all what I was expecting to hear.
I was able to make it back to my car when my appointment was over without slipping on ice and breaking my hip. And now it’s time to get ready for my 4 o’clock supper at Bob Evans before tucking myself in to bed at the break of 8pm. Happy 82nd birthday to me.
Introducing: My New Face (in 7-10 business days)