I had a bit of a shock this morning as I was sleepily fumbling for my glasses on the nightstand. Putting my specs on did not improve my vision.
At all.
I blinked a few times and squinted up at the ceiling.
Nothing.
Still fuzzy.
I turned on the light.
Blurry.
*Blink, blink*
Finally I turned to Chris. Or the fuzzy image that vaguely resembled my husband: "Please, for the love all all things holy, tell me that these are YOUR glasses".
They were.
Hallelujah.
I'd just spent a few panicked minutes thinking that my vision had gone from awful to way-beyond-horrible in the space of about 8 hours.
A few years ago I'd gone in to my optometrist for a yearly visit. She had finally given me the green light to start exploring lasik eye surgery. I was ecstatically happy. And a good candidate, according to the doctor. Until she asked me if I wanted to have children within the next ten years.
Yup.
It was then that she explained that she usually counseled women intent on having to children to hold off until after the little bambinos were born, as a woman's vision can change during pregnancy. No point in shelling out major dinero for a surgery if there is a decent chance that it's going to change a few years down the road.
Really body? I'm somewhat mentally prepared for the stretch marks, the wider feet, and the generally wider everything else but to tamper with my eyesight seems like an exceptionally low blow. Wholly unfair, in my opinion.
Regardless, I was pleased this morning to discover that I am still in possession of my current lens prescription and not [yet] in desperate need of a visit to the eye doctor.
