I’ve Got the ‘Bifocals Blues’

For the last couple of months, I have been wearing bifocals.
‘Big deal,’ you might say, and you would probably be right.
Thousands, indeed millions, of people have had to adjust to changes in their vision correction, and that is usually a process that works out well in the long run.

For me, the experience has been 'mixed,' at best.
- Driving is okay. Better than I expected.
- Computer: okay.
- Reading a book, or newspaper, is good, bordering on very good or even, dare I say, excellent.
- Watching Digital TV: I can usually read the bottom line 'news ticker' at CBC News, which is rather tiny. (The font for the news tocker at CTV News Channel is much larger, and never was a problem for me.)
On the sports channels, the experience continues to be improving, of course depending on which channel I'm watching.
July is a big TV sports month for me: the Tour de France is featured almost every morning – and ALL morning – for the first three weeks, and it has minimal graphic information on the live race, although I can still read their smallest fonts.
This July also featured the World Cup of Football (we call it soccer, over here!), And I watched nearly all the matches and had to adjust to small numbers on scoreboards and on other information.
But, I succeeded, by being patient with the television producer/director, who had an excellent pictures who presented excellent pictures with a minimum, again, of scoring information.
Now, we go to the difficult experiences:
- Walking with a walker presents a few problems: I often have to look down before I take my next step, especially if I'm dealing with uneven paved surfaces outdoors, asphalt or concrete, different gradients of ramps, or uneven, or cracked surfaces.
To do this, I have to look down, using the top quadrant of the bifocals before I can bring my foot into focus. That simple act changes my centre of gravity, and sometimes alters my already poor balance.
It's getting a little easier now, because I am starting to do it unconsciously, although I still have to be careful about keep my balance.
- Reading at Mass: this is proving to be perhaps the most difficult action to carry out, smoothly and seemingly effortlessly.
I am quite tall, and the Lectionary text is situated at a low level in my visual field, so I have to put my head down to scan and read the text. Again, that may seem like a small alteration in my delivery, but I feel that my voice quality becomes huskier as I lower my head, and my throat feels more constricted,
But the main disadvantage appears to be that it is more difficult for me to make eye contact with the members of the congregation.
Last Sunday, for example, it seemed -- remember, it 'seemed' -- to be so difficult that I momentarily lost, hesitated on, then mispronounced one of the words in the left margin.
That action changed the fluency of my delivery, and may even have altered the main idea of the sentence I was proclaiming. (At the time, it was a rather helpless feeling.)
Vision Background:
My vision problem resulted from a severe case of measles around my seventh birthday. I went to the family doctor and later an eye specialist, who prescribed thick,heavy glasses. Since then, except for the pair of spectacles before the bifocals, I was plagued having to wear such heavy lenses.
My vision acuity is 20/80, with much myopia (nearsightedness), and now, as the aging process continues, some astigmatism.
I have had excellent vision advice throughout these past six decades, from optometrists as well as ophthalmologists.
During most of my teaching career, I worked with youngsters who were blind or severely visually impaired.
At one point during my practicum at Boston Public Schools, I had the opportunity to work with our visiting retired ophthalmologist, and act as his assistant during his eye examinations of young children, at our free clinic. (I did not wear a lab coat; he did!)
I learned, essentially, how to carry out, report and discuss a thorough eye exam.
(Believe it or not, his notes were easy to read and transcribe! We students also had to be familiar with medical and anatomical terminology, as well as strict exam procedures, in order to ensure that the reports we submitted were true and accurate.)
While teaching, I was very conscious of my own visual limitations, and my students and I were able to discuss and sometimes share various coping mechanisms that I had been alerted to, and my own reading and other visual activities.
End of Background.
A couple of weeks ago, I visited the eye technician, to discuss some of the behaviours and frustrations that I was having. She made some alterations to the lenses, including the change of angle with my face. She asked me to work on my usual vision activities, and call her back in a week or so, which I was able to do.
I reported to her then that there had been some improvements, which I have outlined already, and we agreed that I should continue to monitor the situation.
So there, Dear Reader, it's where I stand. I am doing my best to adjust to bifocals– even though my wife and other members of my family have been wearing TRI-focals.
I don't think I'm ready for THAT experience, quite yet!