The headaches wouldn't stop, and I couldn't help thinking the worst had come. After all, both my parents had died at a young age from chronic conditions. As many people do when faced with seemingly dire conditions, I put off a visit to the physician.
My oldest daughter and I were driving home from swim practice one day when it happened. She was texting on her cell phone like she always did and asked me to look at a photo someone had sent. It was a pic of a tornado. I glanced at the photo when we reached the next red light. “Nice”, I said, even though I couldn't see it. I realized then that my headaches and recently acquired poor eyesight must somehow be related. Yes, my fears were now confirmed.
That evening, my daughter showed her mother the photos. Excited, she called me over to look at them as well. I declined, describing the events earlier that day. “Have you had vision problems recently”, she asked in a tone that told me we were about to enter into a nurse/patient relationship. “Well.... Yes”, I replied, recounting how I could no longer read the fine print on sales papers. She gave me a pair of glasses and asked me to read some small print with them on. “O my God”, I could see the print perfectly.
A few days later, an optometrist confirmed my diagnosis and prescribed a pair of reading glasses.
I love my glasses, they make me look smart.
