I Can See Clearly Now!

I wrote in a previous post about my identification with Teddy Roosevelt’s poor vision and his utter amazement when he got his first pair of glasses. I’d be interested to know how his vision problems progressed as he got older. Since Benjamin Franklin was the inventor of bifocals, I’d assume that TR at least had that feature available to him. And there were some primitive contact lenses as early as the late 1800’s, although it doesn’t appear that he ever wore those. But he sure didn’t have the wonderful options we have today! I’m reminded periodically of how great it is to live now, and this idea was brought home this week in particular because I picked up my new glasses. You can see them in the photo, along with my boxes of contacts and my other glasses that I wear over my contacts to correct my double vision. Even with my rather amateurish photography it’s clear to see how thick the pair on the right is, especially at the edges. These are my all-purpose glasses, the ones I wear without contacts, so they have to correct my nearsightedness and also my double vision, along with acting as reading glasses and sunglasses. Whew! I’m so grateful to have them. Now I don’t have to see two TV screens if I’m watching something in the evening after I’ve taken my contacts out, and if I just need to hop in the car for a quick errand I don’t have to be sure to remember to put the contacts in. The drawbacks to wearing these glasses is that they pretty much make me look like a female Mr. Magoo, and they are somewhat heavy. (I’m reminded of something Dave Barry wrote in one of his early books about what a dork he was in high school: “My lenses make the entire middle of my head appear smaller. When professional photographers take my picture, they always suggest that I take my glasses off, because otherwise the picture shows this head with the normal top and bottom, but in the middle there’s this little perfect miniature human head, maybe the size of an orange, staring out from behind my glasses.” Man, do I sympathize!)

As of right now, then, I’m quite well equipped. In addition to my extreme near-sightedness, my eyes have floaters, very thin retinas, and a cataract. They don’t track together, thus giving me the above-mentioned double vision. Had I lived even 100 years ago I’d have been hard-pressed to function normally. I don’t know how I’d get through a day without the wonderful corrective lenses I have; I certainly couldn’t drive, and any reading or other activity would have to take place within about two inches of my face. I’d have to learn to function within a very blurry world, relying on other senses in order to do much of anything at all. (Someone who’s totally blind might point out that something is better than nothing.) When I’m driving within view of the mountains (which is almost everywhere in my area) I do try to take note of how beautiful they are and how well I can see them. I’m grateful, believe me. And when the time comes that my cataract gets worse, I’ll have the option of surgery.

But because humans are never satisfied, we tend to lose sight of the blessings of the present and instead focus on how much better the past was, or how much better the future will be. We do need to remind ourselves periodically that the good news hardly ever makes it onto the air or the website. There’s more than enough bad news to fill those spaces up! And we should never take others’ tribulations lightly. But we can always appreciate what we have and stop repining for a mythical past or future. I think of how a new drug had just come out when my son was diagnosed with cancer and how effective it was. Will there come a time when repeated chemo infusions with their attendant nausea and hair loss will be a thing of the past? Almost certainly. But, bad as chemo was, it saved Gideon’s life. We certainly can’t complain. (Hey—maybe in the future they’ll have eye sculpting!)

So I’ll go through today, working on the computer, doing laundry, practicing my music, and figuring out what to do with that enormous pork shoulder I bought yesterday at Costco. I’ll be able to see all of this. (Maybe it would be a mercy if I couldn’t see the pork shoulder. It’s almost 15 pounds! What was I thinking?) As a Christian, I believe what the Bible says about a coming day of judgment and renewal, and I can rest in the belief that man isn’t ultimately in charge. For now, though, I can appreciate my world as it is.