I feel about the eye doctor the way most people feel about the dentist. As for me, I love the dentist. I love getting my teeth cleaned. I look forward to it. I take pride in my pearly whites and the fact that they have little plaque between visits. (well, that was when I was going every six months. Now it's been about three years since I last went, yikes!)
I have been wearing glasses since I was a few months old. Seriously, I have the baby pictures to prove it and they ain't pretty. Tiny baby with black cat eye rims that would look okay if they didn't take up half my tiny baby-sized face. Ugh. To make matters worse, I was born with a left lazy eye. So yeah, cute! I had corrective eye surgery at age three and had to wear patches when I was eight and nine. (Fortunately, my parents took pity on me and didn't make me wear them to school so I was spared that particular schoolyard taunting. Or maybe they just weren't good parents? haha)
Yeah, I HATED those patches. Not for the fact that people would make fun of me (see above) but because I COULDN'T SEE. The world is a weird, hazier, dimmer view from the left eye only. And it frustrates the hell out of me now and as a kid. I remember hiding my boxes of patches. I knew I had to wear them until they ran out. So I would keep one box around and hide the others. I thought I was so smart. But I got into big trouble when my mom discovered them in the garage. I also remember drawing and coloring an eye on my patch one afternoon before we left for an outing to the park. I thought I was so clever; however, I didn't account for the fact that the eye never blinked.
But I digress. Wearing glasses is an annoyance, but one I don't really think about. If I want to see I need to wear them, so I do. However, I don't like to be reminded of how my vision sucks. Hence, the irrational anxiety that comes over me when I am told to cover up my right (read: the good one) eye and look at the eye chart with the left.
I was finally calm enough during Friday's appointment to be able to ask my doctor some questions instead of getting all agitated, frustrated and tongue-tied. I hate that damn eye chart because I can't see any of the letters clearly, even the big ones. But Friday I was able to pinpoint that this is not necessarily true. Yes, they are all a little fuzzy around the edges, but I can make out the letters just fine in columns 1, 4, and sometimes 2. I can't focus on column three at all. Usually I just give up because I want to be able to read all the damn letters. I may call out a random letter here and there but instead of just reading across the rows what I can make out, I sit in the chair mute focusing on what I can't see at all, wanting to cry. But yesterday I told the doctor that I could see the outer columns but couldn't focus on the inner columns. Sometimes I can read column two but column three eludes me. He explained it is because of the lazy eye and the surgery. That. . . makes sense. Humph.
I still hate that I can't see when forced to read eye charts, but I think I am coming around to it. Also, it doesn't hurt that the doctor's office is a converted historic house so it really is like visiting someone's home. And because it is converted, I was peeking into the different rooms as we walked back through the house to the exam room, trying to determine what they originally were for and looking around me in avid interest at everything, which proved calming as it distracted me from my normal anxious responses. Yay!
The cherry on top was picking out new glasses. The assistant really took care of me and helped me find a flattering pair. Although, I am no stranger to eyewear and admire it on others, I do not appreciate the way I look in glasses. I just don't. And I love the funky, artsy frames, but I am so self-critical I can't appreciate if they really look good or not. And I have never had someone actually help me before. Is this normal??? Usually, picking out glasses I have to fend for myself, and hope that what I am seeing through thick plastic lenses looks okay. There isn't anyone to give me friendly advice or steer me in the right direction.
But Friday! The assistant asked me what I was looking for and then she walked around picking frames, bringing them to me in the mirror. I tried each pair on and she gave me solid feedback on each one. Honest feedback. The pairs I liked went on the table. The pairs that didn't work she took back. After we had several potential pairs, I sat at the table. She had me try each pair on so she could scrutinize them more clearly. We narrowed it down to two pairs.
I have always stated that since I am not an everyday contact wearer (I just can't handle the finger in the eye sensation) I'd love to have a few different pairs of glasses to choose from. And I am going to do that. I purchased one pair on Friday and will go back for the second point at a later date.
I have to say, it felt really good choosing glasses for myself and being so cared for. This is the first time I've purchased glasses as an adult. The current pair I own was purchased in '05 by my dad as I was still on his insurance. It felt good to not be on another person's dollar or specifications. I chose frames I liked despite being more expensive than some other pairs, and I chose the upgrades I knew would make me very happy in the long run despite costing extra (anti-glare anyone? YES).
Such a small act as buying glasses for myself felt like such a definitive moment. An I-am-really-an-adult moment. I am still marveling at how good that feels.
I have been wearing glasses since I was a few months old. Seriously, I have the baby pictures to prove it and they ain't pretty. Tiny baby with black cat eye rims that would look okay if they didn't take up half my tiny baby-sized face. Ugh. To make matters worse, I was born with a left lazy eye. So yeah, cute! I had corrective eye surgery at age three and had to wear patches when I was eight and nine. (Fortunately, my parents took pity on me and didn't make me wear them to school so I was spared that particular schoolyard taunting. Or maybe they just weren't good parents? haha)
Yeah, I HATED those patches. Not for the fact that people would make fun of me (see above) but because I COULDN'T SEE. The world is a weird, hazier, dimmer view from the left eye only. And it frustrates the hell out of me now and as a kid. I remember hiding my boxes of patches. I knew I had to wear them until they ran out. So I would keep one box around and hide the others. I thought I was so smart. But I got into big trouble when my mom discovered them in the garage. I also remember drawing and coloring an eye on my patch one afternoon before we left for an outing to the park. I thought I was so clever; however, I didn't account for the fact that the eye never blinked.
But I digress. Wearing glasses is an annoyance, but one I don't really think about. If I want to see I need to wear them, so I do. However, I don't like to be reminded of how my vision sucks. Hence, the irrational anxiety that comes over me when I am told to cover up my right (read: the good one) eye and look at the eye chart with the left.
I was finally calm enough during Friday's appointment to be able to ask my doctor some questions instead of getting all agitated, frustrated and tongue-tied. I hate that damn eye chart because I can't see any of the letters clearly, even the big ones. But Friday I was able to pinpoint that this is not necessarily true. Yes, they are all a little fuzzy around the edges, but I can make out the letters just fine in columns 1, 4, and sometimes 2. I can't focus on column three at all. Usually I just give up because I want to be able to read all the damn letters. I may call out a random letter here and there but instead of just reading across the rows what I can make out, I sit in the chair mute focusing on what I can't see at all, wanting to cry. But yesterday I told the doctor that I could see the outer columns but couldn't focus on the inner columns. Sometimes I can read column two but column three eludes me. He explained it is because of the lazy eye and the surgery. That. . . makes sense. Humph.
I still hate that I can't see when forced to read eye charts, but I think I am coming around to it. Also, it doesn't hurt that the doctor's office is a converted historic house so it really is like visiting someone's home. And because it is converted, I was peeking into the different rooms as we walked back through the house to the exam room, trying to determine what they originally were for and looking around me in avid interest at everything, which proved calming as it distracted me from my normal anxious responses. Yay!
The cherry on top was picking out new glasses. The assistant really took care of me and helped me find a flattering pair. Although, I am no stranger to eyewear and admire it on others, I do not appreciate the way I look in glasses. I just don't. And I love the funky, artsy frames, but I am so self-critical I can't appreciate if they really look good or not. And I have never had someone actually help me before. Is this normal??? Usually, picking out glasses I have to fend for myself, and hope that what I am seeing through thick plastic lenses looks okay. There isn't anyone to give me friendly advice or steer me in the right direction.
But Friday! The assistant asked me what I was looking for and then she walked around picking frames, bringing them to me in the mirror. I tried each pair on and she gave me solid feedback on each one. Honest feedback. The pairs I liked went on the table. The pairs that didn't work she took back. After we had several potential pairs, I sat at the table. She had me try each pair on so she could scrutinize them more clearly. We narrowed it down to two pairs.
I have always stated that since I am not an everyday contact wearer (I just can't handle the finger in the eye sensation) I'd love to have a few different pairs of glasses to choose from. And I am going to do that. I purchased one pair on Friday and will go back for the second point at a later date.
I have to say, it felt really good choosing glasses for myself and being so cared for. This is the first time I've purchased glasses as an adult. The current pair I own was purchased in '05 by my dad as I was still on his insurance. It felt good to not be on another person's dollar or specifications. I chose frames I liked despite being more expensive than some other pairs, and I chose the upgrades I knew would make me very happy in the long run despite costing extra (anti-glare anyone? YES).
Such a small act as buying glasses for myself felt like such a definitive moment. An I-am-really-an-adult moment. I am still marveling at how good that feels.
