I have been pretty sure that I need something a little stronger in my contact lenses — I can read much easier, but sometimes I’m not sure if I’m looking at 11 or 1 or if I typed “living” or “lliving,” which stresses me out. I can’t go through life with uncorrected typos! Besides, I’m not eagle-eyed yet, so there’s certainly room for improvement.
Josh took me back to the eye doctor over the weekend (same place, different doc) to see what kind of adjustments they could make to my prescription. He gave me a sheet of text in graduated decreasing font and asked me to read what I could. I could comfortably read the 3rd from the bottom, but told him I had to concentrate to read the one below that. I figured that would clearly explain the depths of my deficiency and that he would save me from my obvious blindness, but instead he said, “That’s good!” Wait, what? There’s still 2 whole sections of unexplored text that I am limited in seeing . . .
I was a bit like a junkie, begging for a fix, “Can’t you give me something a little bit stronger? I know from reading on the internet (thanks, Dr. Google) that if you adjust my distance prescription that it can actually sharpen my reading focus. I want to read the smallest print.” Meanwhile Josh picks up the paper, examines it and says, “Oh yeah. I can totally read the small one.” Thanks love. It’s so great to be married to a younger man.
The Dr. explained something about me being young and not wanting to overcorrect. He suggested if I wanted to read the smallest print that I could easily use reading glasses. Ick. Seriously? Isn’t that the whole point of stabbing myself in the eye every day? To get away from having to put extra objects on my face to see?
But he did offer me some advice: give it time. The type of contacts that I have require the brain to learn how to use them optimally. There’s reading power in the middle and then another ring of reading power further out . . . he said those nerve pathways between the eye and the brain can take a while to sort out. And a few days later, I can grudgingly admit that he was right. Once I set my mind to the fact that this is all the help I’m going to get, when I can’t read something as clearly as I’d like, I’ve been focusing more on the center and moving closer and further away to get it to come into focus — putting my eyeballs through vision bootcamp. Suck it up and stop being lazy. It actually has been working. My eyeballs are starting to get with the program.
I’m also getting better at getting my contacts in and out, though I did have to hunt around the bathroom again yesterday when one stuck to my eyelash and got flicked into the air. It feels like hunting for invisible gold coins since each one that I lose is flushing $25 down the toilet. I finally found it stuck to the side of my face wash. Score! Money in my pocket . . .
For all the hassle and expense, it’s still worth it. When they are in properly, not sticking to my eyes, and focusing well, it’s almost like I’ve got my 35 year old eyes back. Can’t lose.