Falling Apart is Normal or Old Blind Mice Declared Normal

By Jody Worsham

All rights reserved for Bionic Restoration

Recently I went in for my annual eye exam.  I didn’t want to but there was this tiny black Roshak ink blot that kept floating across my eyeball.  And the numbers on the wall calendar were suddenly all double digits plus I was having trouble seeing the guide on our 55 inch TV screen.  Then there were the text messages that I had to have the ten-year-old read to me if I couldn’t find my Dollar Tree glasses.  Maybe the eye exam was needed.

I arrived for my appointment.  I was greeted and asked to verify my birthdate.  I noticed this time the receptionist omitted saying the year aloud.  I guess when she saw the year and looked at me, there was no doubt.

Then it was off to exam room number 1 or it might have been exam room number 11.  I didn’t have my readers on. 

“Stare at this light, don’t move your eyes.”  I did. 

 “Which line on the eye chart can you read?” Well, first I had to locate the wall containing the eyechart.  I assumed it was the wall opposite me with the white rectangle must be the eye chart to which she was referring, but how was I supposed to read any letters with these black/blue sun spots from her flashlight swimming around in my eyes?  I just smiled and picked a line with an equal number of dots and with the least number of sun spots on it.

Using my great powers of deduction, I guessed that if the letter looked like a donut it was an O, D, P, Q, or G.  That gave me a 5 in 26 chance of getting it right.  Of course the odds changed significantly if the dot looked like some Pick-up Sticks thrown on the wall.  That could be an A, B, C, E, F, H, I, K, M, N, R, T, V, W, X, Y, or Z.

Then it was “Does it look better number three or number four?”  She skipped right over one and two.  Ok, nobody defined “better”.  Yes three was darker than then four and stood out more, but four had more space between the dot/blobs.  I guessed three.  That must have been the wrong number because she then progressed to “Better seven or eight?”  What happened to five and six?  Five and six might have been the right number.  “Better eight or nine?”  “Better ten or fourteen?” “Better 16 or 39?”  I glanced over to make sure she was still checking my eyes and not picking her lottery numbers. 

“Tell me when you can’t read the letters.”

“Now.”

After clicking the little dials for five minutes and not finding the psysic radio station and after selecting all the numbers she needed for the Power Ball, she said “Alright, any questions?”

Uh, yes.  “What about seeing double letters?” 

“That is normal.”

“I have trouble seeing the guide on our 200 inch TV screen.”

“That’s normal.”

“I can read the highway signs but not the speedometer.”

“That’s normal. You do have the beginnings of cataracts but that is normal for your age.”    

Ok, Dr. Hubby thinks I’m blind as those mice.  I see blue circles and double digits, have floating sun spots,  can’t see the TV guide, text messages look like donuts and Pick-up Sticks, and I have the beginnings of cataracts but I am normal.   

Next week it is the dermatologist, the dentist, and the orthopedic specialist.  Dang!   What if they say I am normal? 

Normal ain’t what it used to be!