I noticed my eyesight seemed a little worse a few months ago. (Probably from reading all those tax forms. But I also read in a magazine that as we age the muscles in our eyes get weaker, making it harder to adjust them. How depressing is that?) ANYWAY, I have accepted poor eyesight as a part of my life. Both of my parents wore glasses almost their entire lives, so I couldn't really expect to dodge that bullet.
I went through an anti-glasses phase where I would only wear contacts, but that ended abruptly when my contacts starting doing less "helping me see better", and starting doing more "making my eyes feel like they were on fire". I know there are now better contacts out there that don't hurt like hell, but I have become accustomed to the ease of glasses so much so, that when I am not wearing them, I almost feel naked.
That brings me back to my new glasses. I had grown very attached to my old glasses, so I wanted the new ones to be just as great. When you wear something on your face everyday of your life, nothing short of perfection will do.
Mike found a really nice eye doctor whose office is near our work. So I went there and got an exam and everything was great. But then I had to deal with the receptionists. They were friendly, of course, and one of them tried to help me pick out some new frames. But I quickly became overwhelmed when she kept piling frame after frame in front of me and asking me to narrow it down. I wanted to be very sure of something I would be wearing everyday, but I ended up just picking one because it felt rude not to buy from the place that did my exam.
Fast forward about four days, and my new glasses are ready to pick up. I pick them up, and right off the bat, I am not sure if they are right for me. Not to mention, the receptionist just handed them to me and didn't ask much about how they felt. Later that day, I discovered that they where not, in fact, transition lenses like they where supposed to be. So I decide since I am going to have to return them anyway, I might as well get some frames that I like better. I found some at Shopko that I was much more comfortable with, even though they seemed slightly crooked since I bought the floor model. I was confident, however, that the eye doctor could fix that.
The next Monday, Mike takes my glasses in to be exchanged and they assure him that they can get the right lenses and fix the crooked frames. They DO NOT give me any sort of compensation for screwing up the first pair. In fact, they charge an extra $71 for an anti-glare coating that I decided I wanted. "Oh well", I thought, "at least I will finally get what I want."
Fast forward TWO WEEKS. (No more fast service when they have to do it right.) My glasses are ready again and I pick them up, and I can immediately tell they have not been straightened, so I ask the receptionist about it and she says, "I assume they straightened them." "ASSUME?!" I think, "Why can't you fucking make sure you do what I ask for?" Still, I hold it in and try to ignore the feeling since the smiling receptionist and Mike both tell me that they look straight. Once again, the receptionist doesn't ask if they need to be adjusted. She just sends me on my merry way.
Later that day, I discover that my new glasses slide down my nose every time I look down, and I can't take it anymore. I burst into tears, put on my old, comfy glasses, and spent the rest of the day sulking and defeated.
I refused to wear my new glasses or to do anything about them until today, when I finally got out of my funk. I decided to make one last effort and bring them into Shopko to see if anything could be done. Low and behold, a sweet old lady working at the eye center spent about five minutes with my glasses, and they felt wonderful! I was on cloud nine, and the eye center lady might as well have been an angel. I am so relieved, I don't even care much if they look good on me. They FEEL good, and that makes me ecstatic.
Here are a few pictures to break up this long, and probably very boring, story.
My old glasses. (Still my first love.)
The first pair. (Not too bad, but not right for me.)
The final, and hopefully last, pair for a long time.
They will still take a little getting used to, but I am so glad the whole thing is over with. I will probably never return to that very nice eye doctor. Sorry, but your receptionists, and the place that makes your lenses, suck.
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