Friday, April 9, 2010

It's A Scary Ride

 I've worn glasses for distance vision for years now but lately I've been holding printed material farther and farther from my face. Pretty soon my arms won't be long enough.

So, I took myself off to the optometrist and he prescribed new glasses for reading and adjusted lenses for distance vision. Because I live on a very limited income, I opted to have the new distance lenses fitted to my old frames. Of course, they were the only pair I owned so I had to leave them with the good doctor overnight. J drove me to the office to leave them yesterday and back again today to pick them up. I put them on and the floor came right up to within an inch of my face. I felt suddenly very short. "It will take a few days for your eyes to adjust," the good doctor said as I tipped about like a dashboard bobble-doll. "Call me in three or four days and let me know how it's going."

It was a scary ride home. I was glad J was driving.

Old age, we decided, might creep up but it's a fast creep and it starts early. Once you hit the top of the infamous Hill,  Age stands upright and begins to gallop. Neither J nor I have hit old age full on (I consider myself middle aged as I plan to live till 120), but the signs are there. Our joints creak and ache on and off. My hearing has diminished and we both have problems with our eyesight. We both sleep less. And less soundly. We've both gotten in the car and found ourselves wondering just where we were headed, or forget, when we've arrived, what we wanted (albeit momentarily and only occasionally). I told J it's as though my house cleaning strategy (find something in one room, take it to the room it belongs only to pick something up in that room and cart it elsewhere) has leaked into my every day living.

I have always made lists but occasionally now I forget to bring them with me. Grocery shopping has become a game of too many loaves of bread but no milk, three dozen eggs but no butter, two jugs of orange juice but no toilet paper, etc. I don't always forget the list and I can always make use of what I buy, but...

J reports that she leaves things behind. Her pocketbook doesn't always go home with her, or she loops it around her neck when she needs the ladies room and forgets it's there until the strap gets caught on the door handle. I sometimes make three trips from the house to the car to the house for things like glasses, keys, or water bottle.

It's like being in an old, rusty car with failing brakes only its your kidneys, your digestive system, your recall that are wearing out. All the sanding and patching and repainting in the world isn't going to make the car new again. J jokes that she's on the 20-year plan. Me, I'm holding out for 40. It may take me that long to adjust to my new glasses!

7 comments:

Tabor said...

I remember adjusting to such glasses decades ago when I was in my 40's. So count your blessings. We are all in this together if that's any consolation.

persiflage said...

it is supposed to be all downhill, after a certain age - whatever that might be - but lots of us would settle for a nice long plateau.

Jean said...

J'ai utilisé le traducteur ...
Oui , moi aussi , comme vous , j'ai les mêmes problèmes !
A chaque âge ses joies...et ses difficultés .
Je vous souhaite une belle journée .

Pauline said...

Tabor - there are consolations - company is one of them :)

persiflage - I was hoping to tread water longer but...

Jean merci. Je te souhaite la grande joie.

Pauline said...

Hi from one Pauline to another. My first visit to your blog (can't remember how I got here) and I sure can identify with what you've said. I swear I get more exercise than I've ever had walking around looking for things! But I figure we will cope as long as we have the ability to laugh at ourselves and I swear you have that in spades.

Sue J said...

I can tick all of the boxes on this one. Sometimes I make three trips into a room (what have I come in here for?) to retrieve something. In the end I have to repeat the word endlessly on the trip so that I find what I want. This, of course, has nothing to do with my age, it's just that my mind is very busy with many things :)
The hearing's on the blink too. My kids keep asking if they're painted on. My sons have offered to make me hearing trumpets at work.
My car frequently goes where it wants, out of habit.

Ms. G said...

I'm turning 40 this year, so I shouldn't be able to relate to this but I've always been an overachiever. Thankfully my son is still small, so when I am having those moments of clarity in which I know where I want the car to go and what I want to buy when I get to the store, I call a halt to his playing and shout out the plans to him. He guides me from the backseat. I guess when he grows up I'll put sticky notes on the dog.