I remember it as though it were yesterday. The day one of my favorite teachers - Mrs. what's-her-name - at Transfiguration informed my parents and subsequently me that I may have a vision problem due to my tendency to squint at the chalkboard.
I knew I couldn't see well at a certain distance. Rumor had it, at the time, it had something to do with sitting only a nose-length away from the TV while I watched "Jem and the Holograms" or not eating carrots. I later, through my own research, uncovered genetics were likely to blame.
So, off to the eye doctor we went. I barely made it past the giant "E" on the chart. I felt defeated, but my sunshine side focused on the opportunity at hand.
It was entirely possible to turn this impairment into a stylish accessory. The choices at the time were a little scarce, but I found what I believed were certain to be the glasses that would rocket me into grade-school stardom.
In hindsight, they were definitely awful. They were clear red and big. Ah, but that was the style back then.
I believe I was the first girl in my class to wear glasses, but I'm fairly certain no one was fazed one way or another by my newest accessory.
Different milestones constituted an exciting new set of specs: transferring schools warranted a gigantic pair of speckled blue frames that totally clashed with my burgundy and black uniforms but brought out the sparkle in my blue eyes.
Eighth grade called for my first pair of wire-rimmed glasses. They were to look as though I "wasn't even wearing glasses!" Perhaps the frames were thinner, but as a result, the lenses stuck out like a man in a three-piece suit at the Coal Township Wal-Mart.
Glasses were fun, but eventually a source of aggravation. Inconveniences like not being able to see had I chosen to wear sunglasses or waking up in the middle of the night with them out of arm's reach were unnerving. Not to mention how much fun I had trying to play CYO basketball without being subjected to wearing dreaded rec specs.
3, 2, 1, contacts
Being fitted for and taught how to load contacts properly seemed as complicated as dismantling a bomb.
Learning to work with a flimsy piece of plastic takes time, a steady hand and a patient eye socket. If I had a dollar for every contact I lost or flipped out of my eye while trying to put in place, you wouldn't be reading this column because I would have long since been a millionaire.
The most fun I recall in wearing contacts were colored contacts. Among them were a gray pair with a dark outline I had seen an ad for in YM magazine, which made me look as though I had developed an early case of cataracts.
Contacts came with an ar-ray of problems. There were tears - not "tears" as in these contacts are causing me anguish, but "tears" as in dear Lord, I've torn another one.
Then there was the occasion when one would get lost in my eye. I'd blink or look too far to the right or left and the thing would mysteriously vanish. I'd lift my eyelid while looking in a mirror and pray it was still there.
I also constantly fell asleep with them in, which come morning felt as though they had been adhered with super glue.
As an adult, I tried Acuvue Oasis. Super-thin and easy to put in, you could sleep with them in for up to a week - which I took full advantage of and subsequently abused, leaving them in for months at a time.
Laser beams
I sanctimoniously put to rest a simple, lightweight pair of black-rimmed glasses and all my contact cases in 2008 after LASIK surgery.
My consensus is LASIK surgery is expensive, but well worth it. Drawbacks during the procedure include total loss of vision for about 14 seconds after they cut your cornea open and flip it over as though it were a page in a book.
This triggers a state of panic and a "what if my vision doesn't come back?!" moment. Then there's the horror movie worthy metal device they use to pry and keep your eye open, as well as the smell of what can only be described as burning eyeball. The good news is, the whole nightmare only lasts about seven minutes from start to finish.
Next thing you know, you're on your way home with a piece of awful dark plastic they refer to as disposable sunglasses you'd rather die than be seen in and a whole mess of drops and pamphlets.
My nearsightedness has been corrected for about six years and now I find myself already needing reading glasses because I read so much on a daily basis.
I actually have fun finding unique reading glasses; there are many fun styles out there it makes me actually long for the days I required full-time specs. It's also gotten so trendy, many gals and guys sport glasses with clear frames just for the look.
Whether you are required to wear them or not, glasses can be fun and looking back, so can adventures in vision impairment. So if you don't like carrots, don't sweat it. Sit as close to the TV as you'd like and ride out the gamble.