I just returned from my Ophthalmologist’s office where they dilated my pupils. Damn, I forgot how much I hate that. My eyes are all buggy and it is going to prevent me from really enjoying the sunshine today when I take the Slobbermonster for a stroll. I had Lasik surgery last February and am completing my first year as a person with normal vision. Surgery did not go perfectly, I still can not see as well as I did in contacts because my right eye was ever so slightly over corrected, but I’m having that “tweaked” Friday with a second procedure.

I wish they wouldn’t use the term “tweak” because tweaking is something I always thought you did to a nose or the ear of an unruly child, not your eyeball, but whatever, problem will be fixed and I hope to have perfect vision as a result.

Coincidentally, I am also packaging up my eyeglasses to to mail to the Lions Club International who will “recycle” my lenses and frames to give to those in need. Odd as it sounds, I’m a little sad to see my glasses go. It marks the end of my life as a person with different sight.

An old employer of mine had fretted over her husband’s decision to have Lasik done when it first came out 10 years ago. His vision was truly horrendous and she felt that it was the impetus to his very unusual and gifted mind. Her feeling was that if he corrected his vision, he may not think the same way and what a loss it would be.

That didn’t make sense to me at the time, but after the loss of my poor sight this past year, her point became crystal clear. While my new vision was a dogsend during allergy season (no contacts to dry out or irritate my eyes or glasses resting on irritated sinuses), there’s little bits of oddity that I miss by not having poor sight any more.

The biggest would be then loss of my glasses. While they were terribly inconvenient for sports or working out, I like the idea of being able to change my look, or to intensify my “you’re a dumbshit” glare by peering over the edge of my spectacles at a guilty offender. Additionally, when you have to go to a function where you don’t really know or like anyone or you’re in a place where you’d rather not be, the ability to take off your glasses and zone out, lose yourself in your own mind and thoughts is the best escape short of the exit stairwell.

Mostly though, when I really needed to make a point, I used to like to stare down my opponent, take off my glasses, and either massage the bridge of my nose to emphasize my frustration, or to use my glasses as a pointer to emphasize how serious I truly was. Certainly no better prop exists for that.

The stupid stuff I miss can be quickly enumerated in the halo around around a street lamp at night, the blur of trees in the fall when you can’t see clearly and the colors blend together in a beautiful bloody mess, or the glow of candlelight in windows during the Giftmas season. I have lost my Monet way of seeing in exchange for a Singer Sargent kind of clarity and I’m not sure how I feel about the change in styles no matter how convenient it is not to have to “take out my eyes” at the end of a long day or to be able to wake up and see the clock without fumbling for my specs.

Of course, now, with my eyes dilated all to hell, I can barely see anything. So I think I’m going to take advantage of the opportunity, zone out, look at the park out the window, and enjoy a little “cloudiness” while I can. Dog knows they’ll be plenty clarity tomorrow.

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