Doctor, my eyes have seen the years and the slow parade of fears without crying. Now I want to understand.

Yesterday morning I went to the ophthalmologist for my annual exam, and we discovered that my enigmaticy has spread to my eyes. (Is there no noun form of enigmatic? Do I really need to rewrite the English language to include the words I sometimes use, or do I just need to start using real words? Saying that my enigma has spread to my eyes sounds like I have a problem. I have 99 problems, but an eye enigma ain’t one.) Anyway, I’m 45 years old and my vision is improving which probably means that it’s only a matter of time before I can see what you’re thinking.

Is my vision improving because I sold my soul so that the painting of me in our attic can age as I continue to indulge in libertine impulses? Probably not. Is it because I switched things up at the intersection of Food Street and Peace of Mind Avenue? Probably? Maybe? Let’s say yes.

This has nothing to do with that: A few years back, Jeff had to drive me to the hospital because I thought I was suffering from gastric dilatation-volvulus, which is something that mainly affects dogs, but never say never! Anyway, I left the hospital (against medical advice!) a few hours later after having the following conversation with the emergency department nurse.

Nurse: Can you tell me what you ate today?
Me: For breakfast I had corn on the cob. Lunch was corn on the cob again, but on a spinach salad. For dinner I was feeling off, so I just had some popcorn.

Once I verbalized my food, I realized that I had spent the day eating like a factory-farmed cow while living less than five miles away from Monsanto! I went home to ride out the storm, thereby saving us millions of dollars in hospital fees.

Yesterday after having my eyes dilated, I drove home (CAREFULLY! SQUINTING!) and had some coffee. I then fixed myself a huge bowl of roasted Brussels sprouts. I washed it down with more coffee. Three hours later as I drove Meredith home from school, I wondered if eating razor blades would have been less painful than flushing my innards with a Coffee-Brussels Sprouts-Coffee cocktail. Some lessons are learned in the most memorable ways because those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

5 thoughts on “Doctor, my eyes have seen the years and the slow parade of fears without crying. Now I want to understand.”

  1. My husband eats like that — then wonders every single time why he afflicts us all with, uh, “rudenesses” all through dinner.

  2. I hate to be the bearer of bad news , but what goes around comes around. The fact that your eyes have gotten better is not unusual and I hope your Dr. explained this to you. The problem is that it won’t last. At least it didn’t last for me. But the silver lining is that sooner or later you will develop cataracts, and once the cataracts are removed and new lenses are put in you don’t need glasses again. At least that has been my story.

  3. MJ beat me to it. The cataracts distort your lenses before they start to damage them and the result is improved vision. Happened to my husband, and his doctor didn’t tell him either. I got cataracts and did not get the bonus vision power up, so consider yourself lucky.

  4. This year they took an enormous, wide angle picture of my entire hmmm inner eye. Well, both inner eyes. Left and right. I am trying to figure out how to cadge digital copies to have printed and framed on my wall. They are that interesting and beautiful.

    Fingers crossed for no cataracts for you.

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