Thursday, June 7, 2007
My Detroit-Rio flight seatmate last month introduced me to monovision. At 65 years young he calmly read his book with out "readers" while I fumbled and squinted. My glasses pinch my nose, slide down the bridge, sit cockeyed on my face and get steamed up by my soup! He obviously noticed my difficulties when he began his informational speech on monovision, the use of one contact lens for reading. This is not a photo of him but a photo of my alter ego as viewed in monovision.
I did hear of the system 2 years ago but only last Monday did I take the plunge. I walked into an opthamology office and made an appointment. By 2pm Tuesday I was wobbling down the street not knowing which eye to use. Each had its drawbacks and benefits. The side walk rose in undulating waves before me and feathery things seemed to be attacking me from the left field of vision. But I could read the label on the contact lens solution bottle. I couldn't wait to see the Comandante to show him I could read the newspaper without the aid of glasses. Of course, I would need to find my way home first.
By a stroke of luck I remembered that Ginger's house was right around the corner in Ipanema. I found my way there by clinging to the walls and fences along the way taking painfully slow baby steps. After being fortified by a couple cups of tea I ventured out into the fuzzy wobbly world. I found a taxi, made it to the apartment and went to bed by 8 pm contact lenses still in place.
It is now Thursday, and I can see clearly with only a minimum of depth perception distortion. I can read without desperately searching for a smudgy pair of readers, normally pried from the clammy possessive hands of the Comandante and wiped on my Tee-shirt.