Friday, October 07, 2016

Max coke bottle

I'd successfully avoided getting my eyes tested for two years—thanks in part to the death of my mother who expired just as the text reminder came in—and so when I was tested finally my vision had worsened considerably. 

In fact so much so I couldn't have normal lenses—I needed industrial-strength ones. 

So front on, looking at my eyes, you can see the curve of my face sides in the lenses—so I've gone full maximum coke bottle bottoms. My vision is worse than Stephen King's, the king of the bottle-lens people

My new optometrist also discovered I have a lazy left eye. My older brother had it and my son has it but it was never picked up for me. So the vision in my left eye will always have a slight blur. It should have been found and corrected before I turned nine. Fortunately theboy's was discovered and his vision will be corrected.

Non-Jesus wept, I am the odds and sods drawer of minor disabilities—born with double hernia (undetected for six weeks and contributing to my mother's post-natal) and hips partially dislocated from being a breech birth leading to a deformed gait, flat-feet, water on the knees and obesity from eating feelings and not running them off. 

How awesome that, along with multiple infections then depression and anxiety onset at 10, the odds and sods all blended to make a super me. 


(Stands triumphant on failing lower limbs, heroically looking into the distance).

UPDATE: Stephen King is calming America RE scary clown sightings. Classic. I used to have nightmares about evil clowns until one dream I killed one. Never had them again. 

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