Day 82: Life Through A Lens

Work unexpectedly postponed means a free day. A good thing because I cannot tolerate my contact lenses at the moment. When I recently went to see my optician, he looked at my left eye and we had the following exchange:-

Optician (bemused): Doesn't it HURT?
Me: Should it?
Optician: Well, YES! The lens is rubbing badly and your eye is all scratched.
Me: Oh...

Here I bear witness to the power of the mind. Since this conversation, that eye has felt gritty, watery, burning. I've even had sharp stabby pains. Thinking back over the last few months, I have probably had more than normal cause to take my lens out and put it in my mouth clean it carefully with sterile wetting solution. But I didn't pay it any attention - I just got on with it. Not now. Not now I am consciously expecting (and receiving) PAIN. That lens is dead to me. Until the new one arrives, I am wearing my glasses:-

Me: Do you want to see my glasses?
Optician: Oh go on, then - let's have a laugh.
Me: They're a little dirty, I'm afraid...
Optician: Frankly, they're shagged.

(Please note - these are true and accurate transcripts - I have not created an outspoken optician for your entertainment. This is my real optician.)

So - I am reliant on my glasses. It's rather like looking through frosted glass. I wouldn't be able to work in them, and I suspect I shouldn't drive. Everything is blurry and pleasantly vague. Life through a Vaseline-smeared lens.

Several years ago I considered laser eye surgery. I went for the consultation, but I am so short-sighted that I wasn't a suitable candidate. Not entirely sorry, as I think I'd miss being able to literally lose focus and disengage at the end of the day. It's a trigger and a permission for me to retreat into my own internal world.

When I got glasses at the age of nine, I was already pretty shortsighted. I remember putting them on for the first time, and being extremely surprised by (specifically, and in order) a) gravel b) grass and c) Yogi Bear. Pre-glasses I had always seen a) brownish stuff b) green stuff c) a moving blob. Amazed to see a) little stones b) individual blades c) a bear in a hat and tie.

Being very short-sighted does give you a slightly different perspective. I lost my glasses at school one day, and had to go home blurry. It wasn't without complications - I couldn't see the number on the bus, even though I was standing right next to it. I had to ask the driver, and he thought I was taking the piss, and got a bit pithy. I couldn't recognise my friends facially - but the thing that allowed me to pick them out in was the way they moved. I could read the rhythm and speed of gestures and gait, even at a very fuzzy distance. That day really tuned my dial in to a new frequency - ever since, even with my glasses on, or my lenses in, I've been hyper-conscious of how people move. You can tell a great deal by a walk.

Back to the opticians tomorrow, to have the new lenses checked. Strap in for more insults. 'Your eyes are total dicks'. I'm quite looking forward to it.