‘TELL ME,’ ASKS MY YOUTHFUL new ophthalmologist during my eye exam, ‘how on earth did you get such a deep scratch on your cornea?’ Searching ancient personal history I recall, ”When I was about three years old I remember sitting at the dining table, drawing. My mother was upstairs and my creative self decided to make a pretty collage.
Already being a fiercely independent little thing I thought I’d gather the necessary tools myself.” At this, my eye doc leans in, his interest piqued. “My dad had these veeery long, pointy stainless steel scissors” I continue, “and as I sat down with them to…”
“Oh, no!”, exclaims the doc, “It all started off so nicely!” I notice he is doubling over on his chair at the thought of what happened next and, sensing his toes curl inside his neatly polished shoes, I take pity and spare him the gory details.
It has been six years since my last eye exam so I’m getting the works. For some time now, you see, I have wondered why restaurants continually make the print on the menu so small and blurry that on occasion I’ve actually asked the waiter for a flashlight. The notion has occurred to me that this may not be some kind of sick conspiracy, coercing me to relinquish that fierce independent streak and have me ask my date recite the entire menu to me.
No, this is decidedly an overdue visit. I can tell because countless drug store reading glasses are strategically placed at every possible reading station in my home. My desk alone boasts four pairs, all different strengths… and a loupe for ridiculously small print. I never know what to expect when I slide them on.
Aside from the usual reading charts I discover there is new eye exam technology involved in the form of various eye drops. I’m not just talking about the ones that dilate your pupils, leaving you cursing the sun on your way out the door. These fancy new drops do all kinds of kinky things. I forget what exactly but am fascinated when the doc leans over me with a third round of drops and assures me that “These ones will turn the whites of your eyes green, but don’t be alarmed! It goes away after a while.
Now he definitely has my attention and my playful self eagerly begs, “Cool! Can I see, can I see?” With a mirthful smirk the doc accommodates me and passes me a hand mirror. To my delight, my eyes have turned a jeweliscious emerald green and I impatiently squeal, “Take a picture, oh please can you take a picture with my phone?
The eye doc is tickled pink at my request and several photos later is sharing with me how he tried using the ghoulish green drops on himself at Hallowe’en but alas, could not get the green to last long enough.
After the fits of giggles subside we finally get to the sun-cursing eye drops and I am relegated to the waiting room for the drops to take effect. Faint green streaks trace down my face from laughter, the doc did warn me about this but I was having far too much fun to manage the prescribed blotting. Gradually I notice I really don’t care about the curious glances of the others in the waiting room, I am a bathing in the aftermath of a really good laugh.
Have you noticed how many people take themselves so damned seriously? I mean, groaning daily about the darkness in our lives will make anyone’s smile turn upside down. Fearlessly claiming the fun in life is a choice I find much easier.
Nothing is more rejuvenating and energizing than joy, I realize that no matter what age, I am still and will always be that independent, playful little girl. I hold her tight inside my heart and give her all the love she needs.