Dime Store Glasses, Part 1

I was fortunate to have 20/20 eyesight until I reached my forties. Then I began a torturous metamorphous.

Very subtly, yet methodically, my ability to focus deteriorated. The condition is called Presbyopia. You can read about it here, here, and here.

The short of it is that the lens in the eye becomes rigid (loses its elasticity) and may involve muscle atrophy as well. All who reach middle age will experience this aging phenomenon to some degree.

My first response was defiance and holding my reading material at arms length. When my arms grew too short, I purchased a pair of drug store reading glasses. (That’s what I call them.) They are available in little kiosks similar to the ones that display sunglasses.

Magnification begins at .5 and can increase as high as +600. That last one is denial at its apogee.

I accepted defeat early on and signed on for my first pair of prescription glasses. They were no-line bifocals that induced seasickness when I descended the stairs. I adjusted.

Now I wear no-line trifocals. They have a sweet spot for close reading, another to see my computer screen, and a third to see people’s faces more clearly across my desk. Nevertheless, I still peak over the tops of the lens like an old librarian.

I haven’t succumbed to purchasing eye glass necklaces – but, it is most certainly the next step. I take my glasses off to see distant objects, and then I forget where I put them.

I still have a pair or two of drug store reading glasses hiding somewhere around the house – just in case I can’t find the ones I am looking for.

At least I haven't left mine on the trunk of the car as the hubby did his glasses. We found them down the street smashed to smithereens.

My brother Mike and his wife Tami suffer the same vision loss, but have even more problems keeping track of their eye wear. I'll be telling on them soon.

Watch for Dime Store Glasses, Part II later this week.