Miracles of Little Faith or Seeing the Truth With a Keen Eye

Okay, so the penny thing continues...falling out of a brochure Mertis brings me, winking at me from the back seat of the car when no one's been back there...It got me to thinking I was seeing things. Little did I know how right I was!

Today I finally got to the eye doc. Seems over the past few months my vision has gotten worse and worse! See, I'm at that age where if I wear my contact lenses to correct my far away vision, I have to wear glasses to see the small print on things up close.

So I've been wearing only one contact lens, in the eye that has the worst vision, my left eye. It's always been that way- my left eye that is. I have been wearing a 3.50 lens. For those of you that don't know- that means I'm about blind in my left eye.

Well, it's been getting so bad I have to wear my glasses that have a right eye correction just to see where I'm going. In fact, at the doc's office the other day, while sitting on the commode contributing a "sample," I couldn't even read the sign on the back of the door 4' away!

When I finally got in to see my eye doctor, things got weird. First of all, you know they always set you up with the minion who does the basic scut work of the eye exam, measures your eye strength and then turns you over to the "closer" a.k.a the real eye doctor.

The minion got real quiet when she checked my eyes and I noticed she kept checking the left one, like she couldn't quite believe her eyes.

"There's been a big change, huh?" I say, trying to prod information from her.

"I'll say," she mutters under her breath.

She asks if I've been having headaches.

Great, I think, I have a brain tumor.

"You can tell me," I say. "It's bad, isn't it."

She gives me the concrete face. "The doctor'll be in soon," she says, skating out the door.

I sit there with Real Simple magazine on my lap, trying not to think about my brain tumor or whatever it is that's driving me blind, while I read an article on what jeans should fit my big-assed butt while also making me look like I've lost 10 lbs.

I mean, might as well go out lookin' good, right?

So the doc comes in. She's wearing the same corduroy jeans she was wearing last year and they're still a size zero. I figure she hasn't read which jeans will flatter her figure on account of she doesn't need any extra help!

She checks my eyes. And she focuses on the left one for a long, long time. She murmurs, "Hmmm," under her breath.

I'm thinking Macular Degeneration AND a brain tumor now.

"Big change, huh?" I say, trying to sound conversational and not concerned.

"Yep," Heather answers.

"So," I say, leaning back in the examining chair. "What's it measure now?"

Heather gives me this deadpan look that belies absolutely no emotion. "1.75."


Heather nods.

"So that's bad?"

Heather allows herself a tiny hint of a smile. "No, actually your eye has improved dramatically. That's why you can't see and you have headaches. Your contact lens was so strong it blurred your vision."

"So eyes can get better?"

"Sometimes," Heather says. "But usually not like this. This is pretty remarkable."

I can't stand it. "Is it a brain tumor?"

"Well," she says, weighing the option carefully. "That could do it."

Now I want to come out of the chair and strangle her.

"Do you think that's what it is?" I demand.

Heather keeps on writing in the chart, like easy-come-easy-go, what's another patient to her?

"Well, I don't think so. Your eye seems healthy. I don't know what made it do this. You're just very lucky."

Lucky like how? Like miracle lucky or like a near brush with brain tumor lucky?

"It's a miracle!" I say, watching for her reaction.

She smiles- the same staid, unemotional smile she gave me when she walked in.

"Maybe," she says. "We'll just have to wait and see."

Wait and see for what, I wonder? For how long?

I walk out into the overcast, humid morning. Everything around me is suddenly crystal clear with my new 1.75 lens in.

And I find myself thinking the weirdest thing...

A penny is lying nearby saying "The better to see me with, my dear!"

I'm telling you, I'm freakin' losing it!

1 comment:

Teena said...

No way! Not ANOTHER penny!!!

My vision is the same as yours ... when I have my contacts in (I need them for distance), I need readers to be able see fine print.

We're getting old, Girl! :)