I decided it was finally time to go to the eye doctor after about a decade (I know, bad bad bad) of not going to the eye doctor.

Diagnosis:  My vision is uneven.  Basically, my right eye is a weakling and my left eye is a champ.

Prognosis:  I’m going to live.

I have to get glasses to be worn for “close work,” which includes looking at a computer screen, reading, drafting, or anything else that requires me to focus my eyes on something within the general vicinity of my face.

I have known for a long time that my left eye is stronger, but apparently the difference in my eyes has gotten more severe.   I frequently “suffer from” (as they say) headaches and migraines, likely the result of me doing a lot of “close work” and thus exhausting my left eye because my right eye has no idea what to make of the screen in front of me.

So, I’m getting glasses that I will wear part-time.  Not so bad.  I think I can handle it and hope it will improve the throbbing head situation.

For a year or so when I was younger, I had to wear a Band-Aid-like eye patch over my left eye for a few hours each day after I got home from school in an attempt to strengthen my right eye.  I think I handled this unconventional eyewear pretty well for a 5 year old, but I’m glad this time I will be getting glasses instead.

Though this wasn’t my best look, at least I had my kitten for emotional support.  His name was Truder. I loved him very much.

Seeing (hahaha) as this whole glasses thing is a noteworthy development in my life, I felt the need to share the news with my sister, particularly since she once faked the need for glasses.  She was 6.  We had just moved to Boston and she was the “new girl” in her class for the first time in her life.  I suppose she was feeling left out or wanted to attract some attention (for having glasses?) or wanted to hide behind something.  I really can’t say why she faked the need for glasses, but the eye doctor caught on to what was happening when one day my sister told my mother that she couldn’t see and started squinting a lot.  He subtly conveyed this message to my parents by winking as my sister pretended to be unable to read the lower half of the letter chart.  He then told them that this was probably just a cry for attention at school given her age and that we had just moved to a new place and a new school.  My parents, being the sensitive and supportive parents they are, played along and invested in Eugene’s desperate cry for attention to the tune of several hundred dollars. God bless my parents.

So given her complicated history with her vision, I thought she would be a good person to tell about my new glasses.

It was late the other night after I returned from the eye doctor, ate dinner, watched some TV, wrote a post, dilly-dallied, and pondered life a bit, so I opted to text my dear sister instead of calling her to tell her my glasses news in case she was asleep (hahaha) or in the library (surprisingly, much more likely at 11:00 PM on a Tuesday for a college student named Eugene).

Before you read the verbatim text conversation that is to follow, I want you to know that my sister and I are very mature and well-mannered young women.  In public.

Me:  Guess what?

Eugene:  chicken butt!

Me: Yes!

(Long pause to appreciate that my sister just guessed exactly what I was thinking.)

Me: I have to get gafas.

(side note: My sister and I often speak in Spanglish because we’re weird and took a lot of Spanish in high school)

Eugene: What?! For reals?

Me: Yes. For reading and “close work” because one of my eyes is stronger than the other (which I knew) but the doctor thinks that’s exhausting my eyes to try to focus so I have to wear glasses for that stuff.  I picked out some real sassy ones.

Eugene: oh la laaa! Slash kinda sounds like daddy.

Me: Getting sassy glasses?

Eugene:  hahahah no no the stronger eye thing!

(End Scene.)

So as my sister mentioned, this whole uneven eye strength thing (and not surprisingly the migraine thing), runs in the left side of my family.  Almost all members of this side of my family (that I am biologically related to) wear glasses.  I guess it’s now official.  I am a for sure my father’s daughter.

One point of divergence, however, is the type of glasses we will be sporting.  His glasses are rectangular, simple and subtle.  My selection is none of those things.  I went for cat-eyed, sassy and bold.  Here is my selection:

I am very pleased with my choice, but I also considered another more rectangular, tailored and professional looking pair.  I selected these after asking the nice man who helps people pick out glasses if there was any section I should avoid since I was “trying not to break the bank” on my new glasses.  He responded that the glasses were arranged by manufacturer and there was a range within each of them so there wasn’t really any section to avoid.  Being me and having a specific arrangement with gravity to pull me towards expensive items, I of course selected one of the most expensive pairs in the whole place.  The nice man saw what was happening and politely mentioned to me that “The Fendi options are probably not as budget-friendly.”  Oh.  Darn.

So then I found my lovely sassy glasses that had a much more agreeable price tag.  And I was pleased.

I am now waiting (not so patiently and with a slight headache) for my glasses to arrive because I (unlike someone in my family who is younger that I am and named Eugene) actually need them.

Y’all come back now, ya hear?

Sugarlump

Glasses photo courtesy of framesdirect.com