When I think of my vision, I see yellow, red and green. Images of roads and traffic lights of the time I broke my specs coming into mind, as my parents drove on the road and all that passed me were circular, round and somewhat pretty fuzzy images of colour. Green yellow and red, the colour of traffic lights that passes (passed) me as I travelled.
As I type this int (in, my) phone is not more than a feet away from my eyes. Hey (yet) I know not whether there are spelling errors or grammar mistakes. I could be typing no -English words and I would not know. All I see are blurry black lines in quirky shapes with Anya era (antennas) on certain letters and random spaces in between.
I look around me and I see blue (blur) images with pops of colour,, not a word in the photo frames can not a si foe photograph can u makenoit from the shelf just 5 m I front of me.
(…not a word in the photoframes I can see, not a single photograph can I make out from the shelf just 5m infront of me).
How lucky am I, to live a life where not only reversal to the original is made possible, but the improvement of the original is made imaginable. I was born with myopia, and I remember not a day where I could wake up in the morning and see the fan on my ceiling. The day I stepped into the shower and could see the water falling from the shower head. Not a day that I could stick my head out of the swimming pool and see the kids at the ledge playing.
6 years I’ve swam with contact lenses on. And by God’s grace not a single infection in those 6 years. I open my eyes in the pool, peeking a little by little to ensure my contacts don’t fall out. Too often, in the middle of a match I see a ball turn a little blurry and I know the contacts in one of my eyes have fallen out.
I’ve gone from teeny tiny specs to big round ones, the smallest pair I own now fits my build a Bear. And never in my 20 years did I see myself ever, perhaps see clear in the morning and clear before I fall asleep. A fact I am honestly happy to live with, and am content with no change.
Yet, how lucky am I? That I get this luxury to solve what is not broken. To solve what is nearly glitched. A glitch that affects me so minutely, so insignificantly. That I may feel prettier, without worrying about tiring my eyes. That I may swim and exercise without glasses falling down my nose. That I may enjoy the convenience of makeup, without contacts that occasionally dry out my eyes and give me an infection.
To think of the people, some so close, some so far, that cannot see. Those that can see, but little. And those that can be treated, but cannot afford. Does it make me a bad person for desiring such things that I do not deserve? Or enjoying such luxuries that I have not earned?
To be honest, the idea of clear vision seems scary to me. Dramatic I know, to talk about a simple 20 min surgery with such utmost emotions. But to me, a milestone it is. From the little girl who was born with myopia, to the girl who had to sew her eyelids because her eye lashes were growing inwards, to the girl who danced her Chinese dance concert without seeing a judge or audience, to the girl who first conquered her 1st pair of contact lenses, to the girl who performed her first synchro performance looking the judges in the eye, to the girl who played her polo matches, seeing her teammates and coaches and even opponents in the eye, to the girl who can now possibly achieve perfect sight? The thought of losing the familiar blurriness that I now see is in itself, oddly scary and unknown. Strange as that may have sound (sounded), I’ve grown so familiar to the squints and ignorance of taking my glasses off and calling it a day.
For the mini me who always wondered what clear vision was like, and prayed for it to happen. This milestone, I would like to remember. And this milestone, I am so thankful for.