Progressively Aging

I knew when I went to the eye doctor a couple of years ago that this day would come. I’d even received a little advanced notice. Bifocals were in my future.

After wearing eye glasses since the age of 2, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. It’s not like I’m suddenly faced with wearing glasses — some people struggle to even accept that.

So, when I returned for a visit a couple of weeks ago, the eye doctor mentioned that most people get bifocals at age 42. Well, guess what? I reached age 42 eight months and one week ago.

I suppose I should be thankful to get an extra eight months out of my old lenses, but those eight months have tested my eyes.

The sudden realization that my eyes were aging hit during the county fair. I was assigned a few shifts at the 4-H Food Stand cash register, and I had the most difficult time reading the numbers on the order forms and then trying to type them into the cash register. My eyes were having difficulty focusing from one object to another.

I didn’t know whether I was having trouble seeing things close up or seeing things farther away, and when I admitted that, Dr. Wally sort of laughed. Apparently my eyes were having trouble transitioning.

Yes, that’s a great word for it!

Well, as of Monday afternoon, my eyes were struggling to transition again — this time because of my new progressive lenses.

I’d waited until about mid-afternoon to pick them up. By then, half of my story for the paper was written, and I could “practice” with my new lenses as I wrote the rest of the story, followed by this blog.

Two hours into my new lenses and I’m feeling a bit dizzy. No longer can I walk with my head looking down at the ground (I must have done that a lot, because it’s the most challenging change I’m going to have to make!). Instead, I need to look out, over the imaginary line that now divides my ability to view objects close up, and my ability to see farther distances.

In the past week, I’ve heard mixed reactions from other “progressive lens” users, and so far, I’m experiencing exactly what they told me. It’s blurry if I try to look out of my lenses at an angle, it’s blurry if I look at the floor when I walk and I’m learning that I have to move my head if I ever hope to see anything in focus.

For the next two weeks (I was told that’s how long it will take for my brain to adjust to the progressive lenses), just ignore the bobblehead that rests atop my shoulders.

I’m aging. It’s obvious for now.

However, after I learn how these progressive lenses work, the bobbling will stop and I can pretend I’m as young as everyone else out there without prominent lines going through the middle of their glasses.