The Day My Eyes Got Big

I, like most severely near-sighted individuals, get my eyes dilated annually so that the doctor can make sure my floaters really are just floaters and not something more sinister. As I approach forty, I'm finding that lots of common physiological nuisances could become more sinister and less manageable. Or that could be my obsession with self-diagnosis via WebMD.

Here is a joke for you: My eyesight is so bad, even the eye doctor says Lasik wouldn't help! (Uproarious laughter, please.)

Actually, the funniest part about getting my eyes dilated is my husband, Dan.

Dan has better than twenty-twenty vision and has never had his eyes dilated in his life (as far as he can remember). Dan drives me to and from the eye doctor because I am useless behind a wheel when dilated, and, trust me, you would not want me driving down Eagle Road.

About ten minutes into my dilation, Dan started staring into my eyes and not in the romantic sense.

The flash on this picture about killed me.

"It's like an alien is taking over your body," he said, way too enthusiastically.

"Or it could be the devil, like in Penny Dreadful," and in my best Eva Green, I whispered, "What game shall we play?"

"That's so cool. I want my eyes dilated!" Dan exclaimed.

About that time, the waiting area started to take on an uncomfortable aura, and a salesperson sat himself beside me on the window side, tempting me with the prospect of new contacts and glasses. I couldn't even look up, the glare from the window was so bad. I stared at his lap the whole time while Dan stared at me like I was some sort of science experiment.

What will happen to the girl with big pupils when confronted with extreme sunlight?

Torture is not the best sales method. I didn't buy any new contacts or glasses.

Finally, when the salesperson finished his spiel, he said, "You're squinting a lot. I'll go shut the blinds."

You mean, you just now realized that I was staring at your crotch during your entire pitch?

After finding out that my floaters were still just my floaters and my bad eyesight was still just my bad eyesight, Dan drove me home. We closed the blinds and watched Game of Thrones.

During the second episode, I was able to read my watch again, which is always a sign to me that my eyes are going back to normal.

"How are my eyes now?" I asked Dan.

"You still look like an alien."

Helpful, Dan, very helpful.

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