The only problem that I have during my eye exam is knowing the right answer. Have I been experiencing an increase in blurred vision? Do I ever see floaters in my vision? Which looks more clear, 1 or 2? 2 or 3? 3 or 4? Can I determine what letter that is without squinting? I want so much to be right, to say the thing that is the right answer to prove that my eyes are exactly whatever it is that they are supposed to be. Am I trying to prove that my vision hasn't deteriorated since my last exam? That I could use a new prescription? That I never needed glasses at all? In sharp contrast to the easy automation of that appealing pre-exam room, my chat with the doctor is teeming with abstraction. And to every question, he says: "good!" So what the hell is that? Did I get it right? Is it good that I can't see or good that I can? Can I?
I should be comforted by the fact that the nice doctor will pretend that all of my answers are good. It's like Dad would often say when we needed to make a choice: "You can't make a mistake."
I guess I passed. I have no idea. My optic nerve looks righteous. I can see just about as well as I could before, I am both near and farsighted with astigmatism, but all in the low range. My glasses are exactly what I need for when I need them.
My girl watched my exam, then took her turn. She made comments like: "I think I can see it but then it gets blurry." and "That's either an O or an S" and "No, it's okay, I can figure it out if you let me hold it."
|Welcome to my world, honey.|