5. I was 5 when I was first told I was going to need to wear glasses. And as you can imagine, I took it about as well as any 5 year old who’s told she’s going to be different would. I cried my fucking eyes out. I was pointy with shocking white hair, and with my NHS specs I resembled someones very tiny and very weird Grandma. And if you think the other kids didn’t notice this, well, you have another thing coming.
I got contact lenses at the first available opportunity. Over the years I had bent the legs out of shape of many glasses (I slept in them) and quite frankly the idea of being able to go outside in the rain, and well, y’know, see, was a complete novelty. That said, I fell asleep in my contacts within my first week of having them. I remember briefly thinking “I’M CURED” before a frantic and fearful dig around my eye as I tried to remove my lenses.
Laser eye surgery was never far from my mind, though in truth it never seemed like an option. Growing up wearing glasses made me feel like I was ugly and awkward and weird and I would have done anything to not to be dependant on them. Even trying to find pictures of me in glasses is tricky. As I got older? Well they became more of an inconvenience. From a case of steamy windows when coming in from the cold, to wishing for windshield wipers when caught in the rain, needing glasses SUCKED.
And I didn’t think I’d be eligible. My eyesight is bad. Like really bad. Like, can’t see half a foot in front of me bad. My glasses, for lack of a better term, are uniformly bottle tops. I had resigned myself to a life of contact lenses and investing in a rather spectacular opticals collection.
Except, my eyes could get fixed. Optical Express invited me along to a consultation – which has all the hallmarks of a regular eye test with a couple of extra bits thrown in for good measure. 15 minutes of focusing on dots, cool air and reading tiny writing and there I was, sitting in the opticians being told laser eye surgery if I wanted it, was an option.
And boy did I want it. I’m booked in for my surgery for the 8th of June, and meeting with my surgeon a few days before. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. Of course I am. But being able to see? Without glasses? It’s going to be so so worth it.