Saturday, March 31, 2007

A Matter of Perspective(s)

My kids (at least the two older ones) have told me for years that I am OLD! "Da-a-ad, you're SO old!" (You know they're really trying to make a point of their message when a three letter word gets four or five syllables).

Well, now I guess I'm really getting there... I now have bifocals. My eye doctor talked about the way my eyes get 'locked' in at the close range focus (like the distance from my eyes to my computer screen or my Palm Treo... yet I need to be able to see clearly a bit further away (like for driving or seeing the words on the wall during our congregation's contemporary worship service every Sunday night. SO i have bifocals.

They're the progressivce kind, so you can't really tell by looking at me, but from the inside looking out I truly have a new perspective on life. The entire top of the lens is for far away focus. The bottom is, bit by bit, sort of like an inverted pyramid for the varying degrees of close work. The crazy part is that the edges (particularly on the bottom half of the lens) is mostly just distortion... which is how they pull off that pyramid thing I guess.

So I have to not only lift or lower my chin to look out of the appropriate half of my glasses, but I also have to remember to 'point my nose' towards whatever I'm trying to look at... cause looking out of the edges is just freaky.

I got these on thuirsday afternoon, and spent the rest of the day almost nauseous. Yesterday was pretty good, but I took both rails on the hospital stairs as I went up and down when doing rounds.

Oh well, aging isn't really that bad I guess. After all, what other option is there?

It is my GOAL to get old! (So far, it's the one goal I am most successful at accomplishing!)

3 comments:

Gwen said...

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Keith H. McIlwain said...

Don't feel too bad. My kids inherited their mother's poor eyesight, and one of my children already wears bifocals.

Randy Roda said...

I have noticed that not only to my kids think I'm old, they also think I am somehow embarrassing to them. My oldest son, who is twelve, will often ask to be dropped off for school around the corner so none of his friends can see him leave the car. I awlays thought I was pretty hip for my age, but time has taken it away. The music is now too loud, the clothing too suggestive and kids don't want to follow rules. Man do I feel old.