Do you wear glasses?

“Lucky…” eight-year-old me would reply. As a kid I really wanted glasses. 

Why, right??? 

 

I think because they would’ve made me feel special. Like not just your average, run-of-the-mill kid who can see. Those are a dime a dozen!

 

I mean, I think each of us can recall at least one “cast kid” from childhood.

 

The boy who rolled off his bunk bed. The girl who took a spill on her Huffy. 

 

After a week or two (of probably pure agony) they’d stroll into school with a colorful cast! Sometimes even crutches, but I drew the line at crutches.

Those seemed like a hassle. 

EVERY KID IN CLASS wanted to hear what was going through their mind as they flung off the tire swing. Even kids who didn’t like them yesterday! 

 

AND they wanted to write cool things on the cast! 

 

“Feel better, bro!” I don’t know what they wrote. I never broke anything.

I guess I just needed a little attention.

 

From a therapist.

 

About my Munchausen.

Mental health unchecked, I saw my golden opportunity for glasses when my mom took me in to have my first vision test. 

 

I didn’t just fail it, you guys. I *ASTOUNDED* the optometrist at how I was managing to get around in life with SUCH. POOR. VISION. They marveled at the miracle before them! 

They might’ve even considered calling child protective services.

 

Of course, five minutes later in the parking lot I was beside myself with guilt. I confessed to my mother that I had faked all my responses. As a kid I was average at misbehaving, but scored VERY poorly on getting away with it.

As I entered adolescence and my “glasses kid” friends were making the bumpy transition to contacts, I changed my mind about wanting poor vision.

(I think that’s how you *know* you don’t have Munchausen. I think those people will do anything for love.)

I watched my BFF struggle in the bathroom mirror for what felt like hours. Tears of contact solution running down her face as she tried to apply a hard disc to her eyeball and blink it feverishly into place without grazing the iris! We’re not supposed to be placing foreign objects in our eyes!

 

NO THANK YOU.

Plus tampons were right around the corner. I was all about this next endeavor that would also require a lot of time in the bathroom.

I got the period. I also got the braces. 

 

But glasses evaded me for many years.

 

Alas, in my early thirties I had finally developed enough near-sightedness in my left eye to SOMETIMES require glasses, as needed, 

if desired, 

for like extended night-driving, 

if I remember them, 

no worries if I don’t–

 

I’M IN. I’M IN THE GLASSES CLUB! Look how chic and sophisticated!

But being at the eye doctor’s office in your early thirties is more than just picking out a pair of cool turtle shell glasses for taking selfies. 

 

And driving or whatevs.

 

Your doctor will likely suggest a more thorough exam than reading a row of letters on the wall. At some point he or she will likely want a dilated eye exam.

 

What’s a dilated eye exam?

It’s when your optometrist or ophtha opthamal opthalmolog other eye doctor administers eye drops to dilate your pupils before examining your eyes. 

 

The pupils are like the doorway to the soul. Of the eye. The doctor wants to shine a big ol’ light on them, but you know what happens when pupils are exposed to light–they shrivel up. So dilating forces them open for a better view.

 

According to the National Eye Institute, “it’s the only way to check for eye diseases early on, when they’re easier to treat–and before they cause vision loss.”

 

And so we must!

 

What does pupil dilation feel like?

 

It feels like you were exhausted at 10pm but stayed up till 4am to read chemistry textbooks anyway.

 

It feels like day 12 of untreated pinkeye.

 

It feels like you’re drying your eyeballs with a towel.

You had mentioned fainting.

 

Right!

 

I made an appointment for my first dilated eye exam. It was early, so I rolled out of bed and headed straight in.

 

When my name was called, the nurse led me to a chair. I sat, and she explained she was going to give me a few different drops. No problem!

I leaned back a little and she swiftly administered all the drops. When she was done, I sat up and blotted my cheeks with a tissue, and as I did so…things got weird.

 

Very weird.

“Are you feeling okay?” the nurse asked.

 

I think I answered her. As the room spun, I heard her say to a colleague, “See? I knew it, I had a feeling.” Knew what? The room went dark.

 

I had passed out. WTF? 

 

The nurses kept me seated and watched me until it was time for my exam. I felt fine after just a few minutes. I got my exam and left. But what happened?

At home after taking dilated-pupil selfies I feverishly Googled the topic but couldn’t find much. I reached out to my eye doctor. 

 

He felt it was due to the anticipation of someone else administering the drops. As a rampant control freak, this made perfect sense! 

And upon learning I had gotten the exam on an empty stomach, he advised me to be sure to eat a good meal beforehand next time.

 

Next time? Wah. I didn’t wanna do it again ever after that. Ever.

But, alas. Eye health.

 

So three years later (the maximum amount of time he would let me wait) I begrudgingly made another appointment for a dilated exam. I was nervous, but I came with a plan. 

Prevent fainting at an eye exam

Eat a full meal beforehand. I was sure to eat breakfast this time–a good breakfast. Not a big spoon of ice cream from the container.

 

Request to administer the eye drops yourself! I explained what happened last time and the nurse was more than happy not to scoop me off the floor or whatever the nurses had to do three years ago. She handed me the bottles, I stood in front of a mirror. No prob.

 

If you’re feeling at all fainty, flex your extremities (arms and legs) continuously. This helps bring blood back to your brain. You can also lean forward and put your head between your legs, or lay down if possible. 

 

Success

 

My appointment went great! Yay! 

 

An accomplished non-fainter, I got to go back to the waiting room to let the dilation drops kick in.

 

As I sat proudly, my eyeballs began to feel like I just spent a long day opening my eyes underwater at the beach. 

Ah, summer.