Low Vision Can Lead to Awkward Moments

This appointment day started just like any other. I no longer find myself overly nervous or anxious, just ready to be done with the day even before it has started. Knowing that most of the day will be rendered useless after the actual appointment, a hurry-up-and-get-it-over-with feeling comes over me. I schedule these visits for early mornings typically, hoping that I at least will have some moments of clear vision much later in the day. It works for me.

A typical appointment

My husband was my designated driver of the day and he promptly got me to the appointment with plenty of time to spare. The visit itself went well, initial eye chart tests, dilation drops administered, scanning of the eyes, and then the waiting. No matter how busy or empty the office may seem, time revolves around the dilation process. Another feeling of hurry-up-and-wait, honestly.

Stepping into the examining room is a big step in the day. Then, I wait to hear the doctor’s words of wisdom as he carefully peers over the scanned results. I carefully listen, hoping to myself. Is this possibly a day of no injections? Also how is the “good” eye looking? These are the questions that run through my mind while I wait for the verdict. With a huge sigh of relief, I hear that the “good” eye is still good. Followed by the best words ever, “no injection needed".

Scheduling the next appointment

With a bit of happy skip in my walk, I am escorted to the receptionist desk to schedule the next appointment. It is quite possibly one of the few times that I can honestly say I am so happy to be done with this part of my day. I listen carefully as the next date and time is given to me and the reminder card handed over. There is no way I can enter it into my phone calendar with this over-dilated vision I am experiencing. This oversized reminder card is most appreciated and promptly stashed into my purse for later filing.

On my way out

Having learned over time, I promptly shroud my sensitive eyes with a handy pair of over-the-glasses sunglasses and my next step is out the door. It is here that things got a little “interesting”. I had noted where we had parked our vehicle when I was dropped off just an hour before and headed in that direction. Squinting a bit to verify that I was going the right way, I think to myself “the car is red, you can’t miss it, right?”

I navigated the curb successfully, took, what I presumed was the correct steps in the right direction. The vehicle in front of me certainly looked like my car, and so I continued normally, trying to appear confident and self-assured. I reached for the door handle of “my car”. About this time, I may have hesitated.

Vision and hearing impaired

I, as well as being pretty vision impaired at this time, also do not hear well even with hearing aids in some situations. This was one of those times.

From across the parking lot, it began to register with me that that sound, that voice, was meant for me. Something along the lines of “Hey Debbie, over here”. At about the same time, another voice was saying, “uhh, wrong car ma’am”. Then it hit me. This was not my car. Not my driver, not my husband. So in a blink of overly dilated eyes, I nodded to the one voice and pivoted to the other.

Still striving for confidence and self-assurance, I amble over to the correct vehicle, giggling as I get in. I am thankful that I found my car and that there is always room for correction amid direction.