So. I'm getting glasses.
We can do this the short way or we can do this the long way, and I think we all know where this is headed, but it's nice of you to act surprised, anyway.
This was my very first eye appointment, ever. I sort of thought I'd make it to 40, but I've been noticing that my eyes have been a little wonky. And getting wonkier. And I'm wise and mature! So why not go?
So I waltz into the eye clinic this morning and do the little eye chart test. The doctor pronounces me 20/20. And I was like, really? I thought that would pretty much seal the deal. But then he pulls out this crazy eye machine thing (that totally looks like some sort of bad '70s sci-fi movie prop) and asks me look at a blurry Christmas tree (I had to take his word for it on that one. I certainly didn't see a tree, but who am I to judge?), and pulls back saying, huh. And I was like, huh WHAT, exactly? And he was like, well, let's do this other little test right here.
Which was when it came out that I am nearsighted in my right eye, and farsighted in my left eye, with astigmatism to boot. And he was all, that is odd. And I was all, yay me! I wouldn't want some sort of normal eye decline. How dull would that be?
So then he asks if he can dilate my eyes, and I was all like... no thanks. Then he wanted to put some sort of yellow drops in my eyes to "check the pressure." Um, what? Apparently eyeballs have a pressure just like your blood. That is AWESOME. We decide to forgo the drops due to my crazy artificial color allergy and the fact that I am a fainter (apparently it can happen. Interesting), but then when he looked at them minus the color, he thought I had a budging disk or lens or something. (Honestly, I wasn't paying very close attention.) So I was like, oh, fine, put the drops in. So he did.
Not a fan of those drops. They made my eyeballs feel sort of numb and itchy and watery and big. It was nuts, and not in a good way.
And then he was all like, sit still, please. And something about me being just as wiggly as Abby. (D'oh!) He was shining this bright light into my eyes, which was most uncomfortable, plus I couldn't help but pull my face back when I could clearly see this thing coming straight towards my exposed eyeball, and I was supposed to be pressing my forehead up against some sort of plastic bar thing... and I was mostly really just failing at the whole enterprise. So I had to actually tell myself, over and over and over, to sit still and look straight ahead and just woman up.
And that's what I did. And my disk or lens or whatever? Normal.
So that was good.
Oh, but then he got all excited and starts telling me about how my farsightedness is just going to get worse and worse, and how I'm going to need bifocals. He's hilarious, this doctor. I think he really enjoys worst-case scenarios. It's entertaining as heck, though, so I didn't mind the doom and gloom forecast.
And then he's all like, well, what do you want to do, because you have options. And I was like, get glasses? I mean, in for a penny, in for a pound, right? Why just wear glasses when I'm driving or on the computer or whatevs when I can rock the look ALL DAY LONG?
There are a lot of frames in this world. And this is a small office. I was glad that I didn't have more choices, if you want to know the truth. I just don't have that kind of time. I wanted something simple, with smaller lenses. It took about 20 minutes to narrow it down to a copper-colored frame, which is 19 minutes longer than my decisions usually take. And then the receptionist was all, have you seen THESE?
And lo and behold, those were the glasses I'd been looking for. Simple, small square lenses, NAVY FRAMES. I took an informal poll of strangers seated in the waiting room--there were three, except one had just had her eyes dilated, so I'm not sure she really counted--and they voted for the navy over the copper. "Those just look more like you," said Stranger Number One. Indeed. I love justification.
My eyes have itched like crazy all day. I feel like I've had a good long cry, but it's just those damn drops. When I took a tissue to clean up the gunk around my eye after that part of the exam, the tissue came away FLORESCENT YELLOW. How can that be good for anyone?
I just don't know.
Ra Ra Riot, "Ghosts Under Rocks." Because why not? I've been listening to this song a lot lately. I just like it. Lost and forgotten. Turn it into broken good. Lifting you up as an offer. (Not all together, of course. That wouldn't make any sense.)