To See Or Not To See

When I turned 40 a "few" years ago, I realized that words were getting harder to read. I got to squinting, looking for brighter lights, saying "oh yeah, that looks good" when something was placed in front of me. So I succumbed to readers. Some people call them cheaters, but I don't like that word. The eye Dr confirmed, readers would be fine for me for awhile.

Last year when I went to the Eye Doctors I told him that I didn't know what was going on, but my readers were working for my distance, too. Silly me, thinking that that was ok. He mentioned the word "progressive" glasses and said that they would take some getting use to. Well I thought my readers were fine, so I never did anything about progressive "real" glasses. Plus, I could get 3 pairs of readers for $12 at the Christmas Tree Shop and have a variety of fun colors.

For the past few months, I have been attached to my readers and panic when I am without them. They are usually on the top of my head. So when I went to the eye Dr the other day I said that I might be interested in contacts. "Great" he said. I thought I had more time to procrastinate about my decision, but he pulled a pair out of a drawer and gave me a quick lesson on how to put them in and voila, gave me a high five and shooed me out the door.

All fine and good. I felt giddy because I could see and didn't have glasses on. I could put my sunglasses on and still see.

Then I had to take the contacts out.

And the next morning put them back in.

Well here is the problem, you have a sight impaired person playing with a little clear plastic disk in solution and it's a crap shoot whether it gets in your eye and more importantly in the correct place in your eye and facing the right direction. It was so easy for the Doctor. "Yes, see if it rolls this way it is shaped like a taco. This is the side you want on your eye. If it rolls this way, it's a mess. You do not want this side on your eye." Sure I understood it in the Dr's office, but when I am looking into my daughter's magnified mirror in the middle of what I could only call a 4 teenager bathroom, things aren't that easy. Both ways look like a taco. The disc is slippery. Seeing my finger coming at my eye ball is terrifying. The thought of dropping it onto any surface in that bathroom would probably require me to call in a hazmat team to sanitize it. That is if I could find it.

So I will stick with it. I am stubborn like that. However, if you see me walking into trees or poles, you might want to have a pair of readers at the ready.