WHATCHATHINKIN’

WHATCHATHINKIN’

SHIRA KAMIL

THE EYES HAVE IT

I have always worn glasses. For as long as I can remember, I have worn glasses. I remember sneaking a pair of my sister’s contact lenses to see if they would work for me, and nearly poked my eye out trying to get them in and couldn’t get them out fast enough. Eventually, I did get my own contact lenses, with my prescription, and wore them for many, many years.

When I rst started dating Brian, I had both green and blue lenses (my natural eye color is a shade of brown), which I would alternate. I could tell he was a little perplexed, as my eyes would change colors randomly. Having red hair and wearing green lenses, he must have thought that I was Irish. He did ask me what Shira meant, and I told him it was Hebrew for song; he asked why an Irish girl had a Hebrew name. I simply held up the Jewish Star I was wearing and probably rolled my eyes. A little while later in our dating, I must have lost one of my blue lenses and when Brian looked at me, with one brown and one blue eye, he then thought I was a Siberian Husky (this was long before Scherzer came into the picture).

Lots of years have passed, and I am now at the stage where my vision is deteriorating. It started a couple of years ago, when I nally went to the eye doctor to have my prescription checked. New glasses were ordered – it is so much fun selecting new frames – and I was looking forward to seeing sharply once again. Unfortunately, when the new glasses were delivered, my right eye was still blurry. They double checked the prescription, made a slight adjustment, and xed the glasses. Eh, a bit better, but not what I was expecting.

This went back and forth a bit, even to the point of my trying a different eye doctor. Again my prescription was updated and, again, I had to get new glasses. These, too, were not perfect but I wasn’t going to ddle with them again. I lived with a bit of blurriness and, after a couple of months, decided to make another visit to the doctor. He told me what I suspected all along, as it was in my DNA – I had the beginnings of a cataract.

I don’t really know why this game is played, but there apparently is a line that has to be crossed before insurance will deem it necessary to have cataract surgery. I am probably telling many of you something you already know but for those who don’t: there are several types of cataract surgery, ranging from the surgeon using a blade (as Bones from Star Trek would say – BARBARIC!) to the most modern of laser equipment and lens insertion. After the hemming and hawing of the one doctor and my increasing lack of clear vision, I decided to nd yet another who took one look and said, ‘You have cataracts. What’s the question?’ I was given the spiel and printed information on all that I needed to know to make my decisions. Back to the game of insurance; yes, cataracts are covered but only to an extent (at least with our insurance). I read, I listened, I watched videos, I asked those who had it done. On one hand, why not let the insurance pay for the surgery. From all I read, it was perfectly safe, it worked and the down time was just a bit longer than having the laser do it. But there were the cons – relying on a surgeon’s hand, more suction to remove the cataract, more chance of infection. Laser surgery, with multifocal lens insertion, would be cleaner, smoother and more precise. Cons: out of pocket dollars that would easily buy me a new motorcycle – at least a new Grom.

The bottom line is that these are my eyes, the only ones I have, and as Brian, my sister and so many others said, get the best you can because you are only doing it once.

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