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I was very overdue for a visit to the eye doctor–Stuff keeps coming up–but since my husband needed to see one with some urgency, we made matching appointments and I had the full “do” today. As I suspected, I’m getting cataracts, but they’re in the early stages. Everything else is healthy. I need new glasses (which I was pretty sure of, too.
I’ve been nearsighted since at least age 8 (when I got my first glasses) and severely so since about 12-13. As I got older, I had this fantasy that advancing age would neatly cure the myopia…but that’s not how it worked. First, my close vision got farsighted…no longer could I put my nose almost on the page of the Compact OED and read its tiny print without a magnifying glass (and the glass that came with it had long since gone walkabout, used on other things.) The distance vision was still over 20/500. (Yeah, it wasn’t minor myopia!) But finally, today, it looks like age is accomplishing something in the distance vision department. It’s down to something over 20/300. That’s still being unable to see the big E without glasses, but at least I can see the chart and tell that there’s something on it. (It used to be a white blur, and if on a white wall just a faintly grayish blob.)
A writer’s physical vision and creative vision aren’t necessarily linked…but when in my case, I think my preference for art with well-defined details, a dislike (much stronger years ago) for ‘blurry’ pastels and media that doesn’t allow clear focus arises from the unpleasant blur I have experienced every time I take my glasses off. I want my world in focus. When I photograph moving water, I don’t like the blur that became popular back in the 70s. Not only am I fascinated by the shapes that the surface of moving makes, but I want to see every bubble, every drop. The white blur is how I see a waterfall or a rushing stream without my glasses….and thus, to me, not realistic or pleasant.
So when I write, in whatever setting, I “see” it in sharp focus. I was taught to see–to pay attention to the real colors (including of shadows), the actual shapes, partly by my early struggle to see as my eyes got worse, partly by the ability to stick my face close and see tiny details, and partly by my mother, who had had art training and painted when she could, in her spare time. I remember her telling me, when I was in about second grade, that tree trunks aren’t all brown, nor leaves all green, the way teachers told us to color pictures of trees. She took me outside to the chinaberry tree and had me look closely at the bark, at the various colors, at the way sun and shadow changed those colors, and then at the leaves and the effect of sunlight on the leaves and the different levels. (That chinaberry bark had magenta, orange, lime green, tan, and yes, some brown–but not all Crayola ™ brown. Once I’d looked at one tree–really looked–of course I looked at others. And then bushes. Flowers. Leaves. People. The color of the shadow under a mesquite tree compared to a huisache tree…or a Texas ebony. The color cast into a wall in shadow by a sidewalk of colored concrete. And so on.
I had been told my eyesight might go earlier than others–and at 15 I was told that accommodation had gone as far as it could with glasses–but the myopia was still progressing. They put me in contact lenses to put some pressure on the eyeball and for 17 years I wore contacts, until the dusty environment of a south Texas riding arena made that impossible for a time. And since the myopia didn’t progress, I just stayed in glasses after that.
Again…impetus to see, while I could see. And, being a writer, the impetus to attempt to convey clearly focused images–but not just visual. I’m grateful that today’s exam didn’t turn up any reasons for immediate worry, and that my new glasses should give me clearer vision than I’ve had for a couple of years.
Comment by Rachel — February 3, 2010 @ 7:03 pm
I feel your pain on the eyesight. I got my first pair of glasses in fifth grade and I haven’t been able to read the big E on the chart since my late teens. I haven’t quite hit 30 yet, so it’ll be interesting to see (I really did try to find an easy way around that pun) what happens with my eye sight as I get older.
I am so grateful for glasses and contacts though. I always feel bad for characters who have bad eyesight in low-tech fantasy stories. IF they are lucky enough to have glasses, they’re not the kind we have with the exact right strength and sometimes having two vastly different lens in the glasses.
I remember a short story I read when I was young about a girl who had really bad eyes and had such problems getting around and getting married. Then one day a peddler came by who had glasses and she found some that worked. It was so much fun to experience the worth in detail with her for the first time. It made me a lot more gracious-and grateful-about wearing my glasses
Comment by arthur piantadosi — February 3, 2010 @ 10:25 pm
This is Arthur. I sure know what it is to have glasses, both me and my mom. I didn’t know you had to have glasses, too. It’s wonderful, really, how glasses make what seems like blurry things sharp and clear.
Comment by elizabeth — February 4, 2010 @ 5:28 am
Regaining the focus was a delight–from the first time on. My third-grade teacher, however, was not: she hassled me anyway and the glasses made it easier for her. She even kept me out of the Christmas play–third grade girls were angels–on the grounds that “Angels don’t wear glasses.” And though she knew I didn’t have to wear them all the time (that year) she wouldn’t let me be in the play without them, either.
But yeah, I look forward to the new ones.
Comment by elizabeth — February 4, 2010 @ 5:32 am
You’re right, Arthur. I’m glad glasses and contact lenses were available for me.
Comment by Kathleen — February 4, 2010 @ 9:52 am
Your third grade “teacher” does NOT sound like the type of person that should be around impressionable children.
Comment by elizabeth — February 4, 2010 @ 10:19 am
I found out later that she wasn’t mean to me alone, but picked out a “goat” every year to torment, sometimes more than one. Usually a bright kid–mostly girls–who had done very well in first and second grade.
My mother changed jobs that year, and she got permission to pull me out of school a week or so early because new job started right at the end of the school year. At the end of my last day, Miss H- telling me to turn in my books. My mother hadn’t told me what she was trying to do, because she wasn’t sure she could convince the school. After all, my mother was a divorcee–but on the other hand, I had been making good grades.
So it was unexpected–and she told me I didn’t have to finish the rest of the year. It was like the clouds parting and sun after storm. I was stunned-happy. I wasn’t sure I believed her, but my mother confirmed it…deliverance.
Comment by Mary — February 4, 2010 @ 6:55 pm
I remember getting my first pair of glasses, in High School. Several of my friends wore them, and they kept telling me what to expect: “The ground comes UP!” and “There are TREES on the hills!” It still makes me laugh, thinking of those two trying to prepare me for the miracle of corrected sight
Comment by Kaye Maserang — February 4, 2010 @ 8:57 pm
Glasses since the age of 13, but far-sighted, with right-eye dominance. Did the Bates Exercises for a while in my 30s and actually did not need glasses for a couple of years. but after stopping the exercises (laziness), my eyes got worse and my next glasses were twice as strong. Wore contacts for a few years, but eventually they would not stay in. Now aged 71, I have trifocals, +5.0 diopters in both eyes, use Restasis for “Dry Eye”, which was damaging my corneas, and have slowly developing cataracts. But I also write and have had art training, use my computer many hours a day.
I am a great fan of your writing and love keeping up with your blogs. I live in Edinburg, TX, near where you grew up. This is a very nice site!
Comment by arthur piantadosi — February 4, 2010 @ 9:33 pm
This is Arthur. Sounds like my first grade teacher. Or maybe my sixth grade teacher. I hated her. She gave everyone lots of repetitive work that was not needed. She was my math teacher, and before I had her math was my best subject. After her it was my worst, and it was because of her. She wanted us to call her “doctor” Perks instead of Mrs. Perks. And the thing is, my mom is a math teacher! She certainly didn’t think that my teacher’s system was much good. I think way too little time is spent on making certain that teachers CAN teach, and FAR too much on making sure they drill kids with certain facts that will be needed for stupid tests. If teachers can’t teach, then even the best students can’t learn, and everyone is wasting time! And then you will have these half educated students that try to get a job, and can’t because they are trained very narrowly, or have a high school diploma because the school had to graduate everyone who showed up most days! It’s really, REALLY stupid, and makes a high school diploma, even if the person is highly intelligent useless at face value. Sorry to rant here, but it’s a subject I’m passionate about. You’re quite a hero of mine Mrs. Moon.
Comment by Abigail Miller — February 4, 2010 @ 11:33 pm
I wore glasses for extreme myopia from first grade on, thick lenses, the right twice as thick. I had no conception of the sort of far-sightedness that can be handled by off-the-shelf readers rather than half an hour or more of painstaking “Is it clearer with this? … or this?” with the eye-doctor. So the scene in the first chapter of Kim where the museum director gives the lama his glasses made an immense impression on me. Not till 6orty years later did I learn how it was possible!
Comment by elizabeth — February 5, 2010 @ 12:32 am
Oh, yeah: “Which is better, one or two….one…or two…? Which is better, four or five…four…or five?” But I do remember that with my first glasses, I discovered that I could see individual leaves on the trees and what the teacher was writing on the blackboard. (She had been convinced I was just careless, and insisted on seating me at the back of the room because I was tall…and suddenly, with glasses, I could read what was on the board.”
Comment by elizabeth — February 5, 2010 @ 12:35 am
Arthur, I could write a book about what was wrong with education when I was in it, and what’s wrong with it now, but it’s after midnight and I’m not going to….only say that years ago, before I was born, a professor at University of Texas said that if schools of education really gained control, education would lose out. Sure enough–when I was in grad school, the Education Department of that university balked at biology teachers being required to take more than one course in biology–they should take mostly education courses, was the idea. My thesis director insisted that biology teachers (who, after all, were at the high school level) needed more than one survey course in biology to be good at teaching it.
Comment by elizabeth — February 5, 2010 @ 12:40 am
When I was very little, a trip to Edinburg was a trip to the doctor for immunizations (mostly). But a trip to San Antonio always went through Edinburg…so I had two feelings about it…depending on which side of the courthouse square we went around. One of fear, and one of glee. Later, when I had a doctor in McAllen, trips to Edinburg were all good. My partner Jack and I won a blue ribbon in debate there one year. (Jack was later killed in ‘Nam.)
Tonight, at a screening of the new Temple Grandin movie (and go see it!!!) I ran into some other Valley folk–a group of special ed teachers from Brownsville who had driven all the way to Austin today just to see this movie and meet Temple, who was there.
Comment by Dave Ring — February 5, 2010 @ 10:33 am
Thinking back now, I realize I was very lucky in the teachers I had. Several were exceptional, only a few mediocre, none sadistic.
Also lucky with my eyes, which have been mildly (and stably) farsighted throughout life. The only problem I have now is keeping them open! Since my DBS surgery for Parkinson’s, I have a strong tendency to squint (blepharospasm), but the focus is still fine.
Comment by Kaye Maserang — February 5, 2010 @ 1:58 pm
The Temple Grandin movie is premiering on HBO Feb. 6, according to an email newsletter I got today from HBO. I have read her book already. I also downloaded (from the email message) a coloring book by adult autistic artists in a 32-page pdf format. It is about Temple’s life. It’s meant for children, to educate them about autism. But I am going to print out the pictures–I have always loved to color with crayons. It’s relaxing.
I’m sure you know how much Edinburg has grown. I just moved back to it after 14 years away, and I was amazed. There is a freeway to San Antonio now, so you don’t have to go around the courthouse square to go north on 281, but that bottleneck is still there! And UT-Pan Am has a huge enrollment.
Comment by elizabeth — February 5, 2010 @ 4:39 pm
The last time I drove that route I was saddened to see that the new road (which didn’t go all the way down, then) had erased centuries’ old trail markers.
Comment by Adam Baker — February 5, 2010 @ 5:15 pm
Ah yes, the daily torture that is wearing glasses. Got my first pair of glasses when I was 10, and Ive been wearing no line progressive prescription lenses since I was 18 (Im 29 now).
Last year I was hoping to maybe start wearing contacts, just so I wouldnt have to wear glasses all hte time, but apparently my prescription is so bad, that I cant wear contacts.
I also asked about LASIK, and the optometrist so that chances are that I’d still need glasses at least for some things and he doubted that I’d be able to completely loose my glasses. The more disturbing thing was him saying that people who have had LASIK, arent able to be tested for glaucoma. The changes in the retina cause any glaucoma tests to read incorrectly. When I was a teenager, for awhile I had increased pressures in my eyes, which the optometrist said could mean later in life I could develop glaucoma. Thankfully the last couple of visits have been normal, but its still something I keep in mind, so it looks like Im going to be stuck w/ glasses for the rest of my life, and I really really detest the thought of that.
Comment by Abigail Miller — February 6, 2010 @ 1:05 am
Adam, you might just try a couple of opinions about the contacts. Of course I don’t know anything about your vision problems, but I would have thought that if I, with -5 correction in my *good* eye and astigmatism, could benefit from contacts, anybody could. I no longer remember the how high the correction was in my “bad” eye; I had a cataract removed and got the implanted lens. It’s not perfect; there’s some distortion, but now it’s farsighted and adequate to drive with on familiar routes. Very disconcerting after decades of myopia.
Comment by Andrew McDowell — February 9, 2010 @ 2:14 pm
I too am extremely short-sighted. I like hyper-realistic artwork, like architect’s drawings, where everything is clear, but in general I think much less visually than most people – especially the engineers I sometimes work with. My eyesight just passed 20 dioptres short sighted, which is when you have to accept compromises in glasses (in the UK) but at the last examination – for the first time – I was less short sighted than before. My optician reckoned it is age kicking in (47). I also tried to spend much more time outside over the last year rather than curling up indoors with e.g. the Deed of Paksenarrion – websearch on myopia and sunlight to see recent theories about this.
Comment by elizabeth — February 9, 2010 @ 3:39 pm
Hmmm….I wonder if the time I’ve spent outdoors in the past five to ten years, working on the land, has been the reason I’m now less near-sighted then I was….I just figured it was age, as I’m now mid-sixties.