I do a lot of seeing throughout the day. Seeing helps me do my job, get from one place to another, and even, among many other things, helps me write these blog posts. Without seeing, I couldn’t text people, and I would be forced to call them. I would say that I see pretty much from the moment I wake up in the morning, until I nap in the evening, and then again between the end of my nap and when I finally tuck in for the night.
The problem is, I don’t see well on my own. I need vision correction.
I can see alright, but wearing
glasses spectacles definitely helps. If there’s an easier way to do something that doesn’t involve too much work on my part, I’m in. Spectacles are pretty easy to wear and they make my life a little more comfortable, until they get dirty.
The last time I got new glasses was about three years ago. Then, my optometrist was a woman who was once a girl I had a serious crush on in junior and senior high school. We’re talking a four- or five-year long crush. Major. (I ended up landing a super smart and hot girlfriend, so I’ve got few regrets, and in case you’re wondering about my ability to pull.)
(I ended up landing a super smart and hot girlfriend, so there’s little disquietude on my part, and in case you’re wondering about my ability to pull in high school.)
Three years ago was probably the first and only time that we were alone together in a room, with the lights comfortably, but alternately brightly and dimly, lit. She looked deep into my eyes and asked me questions about me. I didn’t feel like I needed to reciprocate with anything but answers. The questions were simple and direct, and we really got to the point with only a little hesitation on my part; sometimes the options looked so similar to me that it was hard to decide which was better. In the end, I feel like I walked away with what I wanted and I was definitely feeling better. I mean, it’s been three years since I’ve thought about that experience.
That’s how it is, though, when you don’t have benefits to support these types relationships for a period of time.
Anyway, I didn’t see her again this time. It would’ve been too much for me to fly back to Calgary, book an appointment, drive across the city – to the neighbourhood we grew up in – to her office, and then go through the same conversation again. I just didn’t want to put myself through that. I decided to see a local optometrist. I’m committed to the idea of making Toronto my home, and I want to build relationships here to support this objective.
I’ve been having a bit of difficulty focusing lately, so I thought it was time to see an optometrist to help make things a little clearer. Besides, my other glasses have seen their best days. The arms wouldn’t stay open on their own, providing no hold on my face, leaving my ears and the bridge of my nose to pick up the slack. The lenses wouldn’t ever get clean enough, regardless of the cleaning solution and
t-shirt cloth I was using. I think the style was outdated, as well; although, I didn’t consult The Monocle Muse to find out, for sure.
The optometrist, another woman (cute, but I don’t have a crush on her), was great. She was thorough and even alerted me to a blood spot (?) on my eyeball (I forget what she said, but I need to go get a blood test, which I’ve been putting off since I saw a GP in December). The conversation we had was similar to the one I had three years ago, helping me realise that there’s a lot to see in this world and some experiences will be almost indistinguishable from others while similarly rewarding.
What transpired is that my age and lifestyle is catching up with me. I needed to get Nikon Relaxsee lenses to help me continue to live the way I want to. I hate it when I fit a textbook definition of anything – I want to be unique – but, in this case, I can’t fight my prescription: I’m in my early thirties, rack up a lot of screen time, experience(d) blurred and double vision when reading, and
lose lost concentration when I read. These lenses are meant to help me address these issues.
I could’ve bought a pair of prescription glasses and a pair of prescription polarized sunglasses for the price of one pair of glasses with these pre-progressive, pseudo-bifocal lenses, but I didn’t. I succumbed. I faltered under the progression of my past.
I had to come to terms with the fact that how I see is dependent on what I’m looking at.