This morning I went to Big W to buy my first Blu-Ray movie (yes, I’m finally joining the 21st century). I wanted something that would really show off the technology, and help my wife understand why I bought a new Blu-Ray player when our DVD player is working just fine. But in the end I couldn’t decide, and walked away empty-handed. (If you have any suggestions, please let me know.)
Anyway, while I was there I got my glasses cleaned. For free. They even replaced the nose pads. And for an while the world seemed a whole lot brighter.
But now my glasses are dirty again, and so I’ll have to find my cleaning cloth and give them another wipe.
I’ve been wearing glasses for nearly 20 years now. And you know what?
I’m sick of wearing glasses.
I’m sick of everything looking blurry until I put them on, and then everything looking foggy because I haven’t cleaned them in the last five minutes.
I’m sick of cleaning them every five minutes.
I’m sick of wiping the green gunk (don’t ask me why it’s there) from around the edge of the lenses.
I’m sick of spending an hour at the optometrist looking at frames whenever my script changes because they don’t make the ones I like any more.
I’m sick of dragging my wife along to help me choose new frames (and I’m sure she is too).
I’m sick of my two-year-old son having to pull them off so he can play “noses” with me. (Mind you, he also likes playing “poke people in the eye” at the moment, so they’re not all bad.)
I’m sick of going for a swim and having to decide whether to keep them on (and look like a nerd) or take them off and risk stepping on something (or someone).
I’m sick of fishing for my glasses with my foot because they’ve slipped off while I’m in the pool (or my son suddenly wanted another game of “noses”).
I’m sick of struggling with those special glasses whenever I see a 3D movie at the cinema. (And looking like an idiot wearing glasses on top of glasses.)
Of course, this leaves me with two choices: contact lenses or surgery.
I don’t think I could ever wear contacts. The thought of holding my eye open and deliberately poking something in there gives me the creeps. Or maybe it’s the thought of pushing the lens in so far it gets lodged in my eye (or even my brain) that’s turning me off the idea. (C’mon. Those stories are true, aren’t they?)
And then there’s surgery. I always said you’d have to be nuts to pay someone to attack your eye with a laser beam, but now I’m not so sure. My wife got a free consultation last year and it didn’t look too bad, so maybe I’ll do one too and see how it goes. (In the end they told her she shouldn’t get it done because her eyesight was actually improving. Go figure.)
But it would have to be the full laser treatment. I don’t think I could handle the top of my eye being flipped open with a blade (well, at least not while I’m awake). I can still remember that episode of House where they pushed a needle right through the patient’s eye. Aaargh!
Yes, it will probably cost thousands of dollars. But if it means I can see everything clearly from the moment I wake up, I think it would be worth it. (I’ll tell my wife it will help me get the most from our new toy. “It’s supposed to be Blu-Ray, honey, not Blur-Ray.”)
I really should start building my movie collection soon. Because once I’ve had the surgery, we won’t be able to afford to leave the house.