People, people.

So I broke my glasses, and went in for a “Hey, I broke my glasses” STOP BY at the local optometrist this morning. I haven’t had my eyes checked in a long time, but for years my prescription was unchanged, so it always seemed an unnecessary use of my (dwindling) time. This morning, though, when they asked how long it had been, I answered “Too long,” and they were able to get me right in.

I’ve noticed recently that my eyes actually feel heavy if I am tired, or if I have used them too much in a day…they feel a bit sand-baggy and as if I am not seeing as well. I don’t like wearing my contacts, because this seems to happen even more quickly, which is why I need to so immediately replace the broken glasses.

So during my exam, there were lots of “Hms” and “Huhs” and turns of the head and flips of the glass and shines of the lights, etc. Lift the lid, drop the lid, read the line. Lift the lid, drop the lid, read the line. What is going on? “How old are you?” Uhm…almost 40? Well, that’s never a good question, especially when they look surprised that you didn’t answer that you are well into your 70s.

End result of the exam is that, for lack of a better way to put it, I have fat eyelids! All this time I have been perseverating about my ass and my lids have been porking up and sagging down. I was so out of sorts when I came out of the appointment — feeling all woe-is-me and “when is the time going to come when all the physical damage I did to my body with all my addictions going to be over.” The answer to that is, of course, I don’t know, and I can only take this one day at a time. One puffy saggy day at a time.

Over the last ten years, after the 160-pound weight loss, the extra skin (everywhere!) over my eyelids has weighed down the lids enough that is has actually changed the shape of my eyes and made my astigmatism worse — two points in my right eye and four points in my left. And, the degree of droop is different on the two eyes, so it’s actually two separate operations (which can be done at once).

He asked if I had considered plastic surgery to remove excess skin after my weight loss (does anyone hear something? Sort of like the air being let out of a balloon?), and I said “YES, BUT NOT FROM MY EYELIDS.”

He mentioned Lasik, but said that it would be futile if the skin continues to sag and eventually cover the iris, therefore making any 20/20 vision sort of moot.

So now I am considering blepharoplasty (whee!), which, because I NEED it instead of WANT it, it is covered by insurance.

At least, if they remove too much tissue and I end up looking eternally surprised !!! we know where I have some extra to put back in.

Foreigner, Double Vision

There have been lots of folks checking in with me regarding my surgery. That link is one to a site that explains a procedure that I have wanted to get for a long time, one I promised myself that I would undergo if I maintained my 160-pound weight loss for more than ten years. In March of 2008, I had done that, and started researching doctors all over the country to find the most skilled and competent one. I think I found him, and even scheduled my surgery for May 14th (this was more than six weeks ago).

In the meantime, I realized that it was just too soon. While I made myself a promise, there is no hurry to get the surgery done. I really have to be in a great place emotionally and spiritually to go through something so major. I have to have all my ducks in a row regarding support for the kids, recuperation support for me, support for Shaun. I have all those things in spades — it will just take lots of coordination. And, my sobriety and the maintenance of my family’s every-day takes up all of my time and attention right now. That’s as it should be.

So that’s my big-ass news.

Shepherd is walking, and Ruby is still taking names. Somehow a jellybean made its way into the house the other day, and Ruby really wanted it. She said to her dad, “If you give me that jellybean, and I eat it, all of my dreams will come true inside of me.”

Oh that it were that simple, mydear. Mama’s about 1,000,029 jellybeans in!

Peter Murphy, Cuts You Up (or not, as the case may be)