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Thursday, August 13, 2015

Rambling Thursdays


             



      Day of the Melting Eyes

I wore glasses since I was in the 3rd grade, so they are as natural as the nose on my face. I’ve never been interested in laser surgery and don’t like contacts, so I’ve always been content with glasses. I love picking out a new pair. I just don’t enjoy spending my hard earned money to do it!

And for me it’s quite pricey.  I’m very near sighted. Which means everything is a blur without them. I could hurt myself without them on my nose.  Coke bottom glasses aren’t cheap. 

I have to get special lenses with bifocals and of course I need the sunglasses built in. The clip ons are a pain to keep track of. I have trouble enough with my keys? 

I usually go to the local eye doctor whom I love because he takes his time and is just a nice guy who truly cares about his patients. But, his glasses are so expensive. Over the years, the price has increased to the point where I’ve gone for a exam just to get my prescription so I can order online. 

But I’ve not been happy with this either. So, my husband who has never wore glasses in his life, poor soul, is starting to feel the effects of aging. 

He resorts to reading glasses. Lots of reading glasses! Kind of like Fred Sanford.



Yes this is exaggerating just a bit, but it’s close to the truth. Wherever we go, he keeps a pair in his pocket. And there are glasses scattered around the house.

Lord forbid he forgets his glasses! This means I’ll have to read to him. And usually it entails a trip to the nearby store to buy another pack. I know what you may be thinking...Yes he can drive. He can read the signs and avoid oncoming traffic. He just can’t read whatever is up close. 

I tried for a few years to convince him to get “real” glasses, but to no avail. So the reading glasses saga continued. 

Gradually his eyesight became a concern and finally he broke down.  We both went to a Walmart for our exams and new glasses. Because it is cheaper. 
Immediately I didn’t like the Doctor. He was impersonal and impatient; nothing like my comfortable local Doctor. This is the moment our day went off the tracks. 

The trouble started when he asked if he could give me a eye drop to dilate my eyes. I shrugged and said sure. My local Doctor has done this many times. It wasn’t a big deal. 

He quickly drops the liquid in and hands me a set of weird looking glasses wrapped in plastic. 

You may need this later.

Okaayy. Whatever. I threw them in the trash. My husband, (I’ll call him P from now on), was the next victim, uh patient. 

Well, we finished up and since we needed groceries, we grabbed a cart and started in produce. I began to notice something bizarre was happening with my vision. The lights looked weird, everything looked foggy, and then P said the same thing. 

From then it was an adventure to say the least. We couldn’t see! I literally had to hold items up to my face to know what I was buying. We almost bumped into people, stacks of food. We clung to the cart and to each other. It was like the blind leading the blind down the crowed isles. 

Miraculously we made it to a checkout lane. We fumbled around, set the groceries on the belt, somehow paid and started for the door. It was then the horror of our situation hit us squarely in the eyes. 



It was a bright sunny winter day. I don’t think intense would describe the effect of the sun. It was a piercing fire that set our eyes ablaze. P covered his eyes. I had sunglasses, (Transitions), but it seemed feeble to protect against the raging rays. 

The car seemed a mile away, as we stumped along, in our befuddled state.  I can only imagine what people thought as they looked at us. Through our squinted eyes, we found the car, threw the groceries in and fell in. 

P was moaning by this point. He had no sunglasses, (he threw his plastic ones away too). We originally planned to eat out. We were hungry and about a hour away from home. So we decided to eat and perhaps the effects of the industrial strength liquid would wear off. 

But a new problem ensued.  He couldn’t see. He tried to get out of the parking lot, but it just wasn’t happening without us wrecking or killing ourselves. So I got behind the wheel, with my sunglasses I could see better. 

We arrived at Cracker Barrel without an incident and sat down in relief. Out of the horrible glare of the sun. 

Reading the menu was out of the question for P.  I was having trouble too.  The waitress walked up and he quickly asked if they have large print menus. 

Yes we have those. Do you want one? I’ll go get one. 

She brings him a braille menu. 

The moral of my story? If you both go for an eye exam, one of you has to drive home. Both of you can’t be under the influence of the dreaded dilated eye drops. Be the designated driver. And always, always keep the plastic sunglasses!