So today Daddy finally had his eye exam. This goes back a ways - these things have to be scheduled a long time in advance. The basic fact is that Daddy is not as spry and youthful as he used to be, at least when it comes to these eyes. I have prided myself on 20/20 vision for a long time, and in many respects I essentially still have that. However, there were these daily headaches that were concerning. And an occasional relaxing of the vision with a bit of accompanied blurriness.
So with great trepidation, Daddy went to an eye doctor today to experience what squillions of others have before me: the eye exam. This is that big thing you look through as the doctor calls out numbers and asks if your can see well through this lens or that. Over time we determined... not that much. Apparently, I was "cheating." This is a way of saying that my eyes still focus just fine. The problem is that I don't let them relax from time to time.
So he made them relax. This was a new experience for me. But you're probably familiar with it. Anyway, he dropped this liquid into each eye - first checking for glaucoma. No signs of that. Then there was this other liquid, and that stuff was trippy. That adjective there is perfect to describe what happened to my vision afterwards. But the immediate effects were these: complete and utter lack of focus. Crazy!
Then he puts the glasses on, and sure enough there is focus again. The problem is that I evidently use my eyes. And all this time I was thinking that was a good thing. I've heard strategies about exercising your eyes, just like you do any other muscle. But that sort of flies in the face of what this doctor was advising. No, instead we try not to strain our eyes instead. Or what, I asked? There wasn't exactly a clear answer. You could say it was all a bit fuzzy after that. Literally.
I think for giggles the doctor's assistant was showing me pictures of my eyeball after this eye-relaxing liquid was poured onto my eyeballs. He's pointing out this or that, explaining about this spot here or that. And all I can see is this:
It looked like Mars. I told him as much, but he just laughed, and continued the analysis. I mean, he knew I couldn't see anything - so why's he pointing stuff out? Anyway, there was a bad spot there due to blood pressure, and a whole lot of 'eye jelly.' This is a good thing, the eye jelly. It sounds like something one of the characters from Halloween Town would sell in "Nightmare Before Christmas."
He would call it 'eye jelly,' and not vitreous. Vitreous is a great word though. I don't anticipate using it in a sentence in my life, ever. I'm content to call it 'eye jelly' because that's more fun.
The bottom line is that I'm using glasses to read now. I can read without them, but there is apparently a doomsday clock in my brain that is assigned to my eyeballs. It is just a matter of time until I will need glasses, and I might as well get used to them now. What a fatalistic approach! But that's life, and evidently pretty standard for someone of my age. So there it is.
So here's where the trippy part comes. I drove home. I had to wear shades, and was still unable to focus. Additionally, the colors in the entire world were absolutely vibrant and just crazy colorful. There's this scene in "Brother Bear" where the character first sees nature through the eyes of a bear, and everything is all super colorful. And that was me. Except the bear part. So for four hours, I was looking around, unable to contain myself about the colors of the world around me. Is this what heaven is like? It was crazy. And then, four hours later, it was gone!
Anyway, that's the adventure at the eye doctor. Which is pretty routine, actually. But it's a first for Daddy, so there it is.
Moving on, today was Monday. So therefore there was ballet. Madison is finishing these books at an amazing pace, one after another. She is a voracious reader. Yes, I used another great adjective there - and this is another one that absolutely fits. She reads in the car, on the couch, at the dinner table, upstairs while getting her hair done, and anywhere else she possibly can. It's like a fever with these Weird School books: we just have to ride it out. Fortunately, there are a LOT of these books in this series. Just when I thought we were done with the series, Madison pointed out that there are a lot more than the fifteen or so that I was initially thinking. And she just keeps knocking them out, one book at a time.
She doesn't need reading glasses. Then again, neither do I at the moment. But it's just a matter of time for all of us, or so I hear.
Or... at least so I hear for now. Not too much longer before that goes too!
So with great trepidation, Daddy went to an eye doctor today to experience what squillions of others have before me: the eye exam. This is that big thing you look through as the doctor calls out numbers and asks if your can see well through this lens or that. Over time we determined... not that much. Apparently, I was "cheating." This is a way of saying that my eyes still focus just fine. The problem is that I don't let them relax from time to time.
So he made them relax. This was a new experience for me. But you're probably familiar with it. Anyway, he dropped this liquid into each eye - first checking for glaucoma. No signs of that. Then there was this other liquid, and that stuff was trippy. That adjective there is perfect to describe what happened to my vision afterwards. But the immediate effects were these: complete and utter lack of focus. Crazy!
Then he puts the glasses on, and sure enough there is focus again. The problem is that I evidently use my eyes. And all this time I was thinking that was a good thing. I've heard strategies about exercising your eyes, just like you do any other muscle. But that sort of flies in the face of what this doctor was advising. No, instead we try not to strain our eyes instead. Or what, I asked? There wasn't exactly a clear answer. You could say it was all a bit fuzzy after that. Literally.
I think for giggles the doctor's assistant was showing me pictures of my eyeball after this eye-relaxing liquid was poured onto my eyeballs. He's pointing out this or that, explaining about this spot here or that. And all I can see is this:
It looked like Mars. I told him as much, but he just laughed, and continued the analysis. I mean, he knew I couldn't see anything - so why's he pointing stuff out? Anyway, there was a bad spot there due to blood pressure, and a whole lot of 'eye jelly.' This is a good thing, the eye jelly. It sounds like something one of the characters from Halloween Town would sell in "Nightmare Before Christmas."
He would call it 'eye jelly,' and not vitreous. Vitreous is a great word though. I don't anticipate using it in a sentence in my life, ever. I'm content to call it 'eye jelly' because that's more fun.
The bottom line is that I'm using glasses to read now. I can read without them, but there is apparently a doomsday clock in my brain that is assigned to my eyeballs. It is just a matter of time until I will need glasses, and I might as well get used to them now. What a fatalistic approach! But that's life, and evidently pretty standard for someone of my age. So there it is.
So here's where the trippy part comes. I drove home. I had to wear shades, and was still unable to focus. Additionally, the colors in the entire world were absolutely vibrant and just crazy colorful. There's this scene in "Brother Bear" where the character first sees nature through the eyes of a bear, and everything is all super colorful. And that was me. Except the bear part. So for four hours, I was looking around, unable to contain myself about the colors of the world around me. Is this what heaven is like? It was crazy. And then, four hours later, it was gone!
Anyway, that's the adventure at the eye doctor. Which is pretty routine, actually. But it's a first for Daddy, so there it is.
Moving on, today was Monday. So therefore there was ballet. Madison is finishing these books at an amazing pace, one after another. She is a voracious reader. Yes, I used another great adjective there - and this is another one that absolutely fits. She reads in the car, on the couch, at the dinner table, upstairs while getting her hair done, and anywhere else she possibly can. It's like a fever with these Weird School books: we just have to ride it out. Fortunately, there are a LOT of these books in this series. Just when I thought we were done with the series, Madison pointed out that there are a lot more than the fifteen or so that I was initially thinking. And she just keeps knocking them out, one book at a time.
She doesn't need reading glasses. Then again, neither do I at the moment. But it's just a matter of time for all of us, or so I hear.
Or... at least so I hear for now. Not too much longer before that goes too!
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