The Year I Learned Street Signs Have Words 👓

I recently went to the eye doctor, and let me tell you, it was a humbling experience.

Like many people, I had convinced myself that my vision was "fine." Was everything crystal clear? No. Did street signs seem a little fuzzy? Maybe. Did I occasionally squint at my computer screen like I was trying to decipher ancient hieroglyphics? Also maybe. But I could see well enough, and that's what mattered. Or so I told myself.

The funny thing is that my prescription had stayed pretty much the same for years. Every annual eye exam seemed to follow the same routine. I'd sit in the chair, answer the famous "Which is better, one or two?" questions, read some letters off a chart, and leave with a prescription. It was quick, easy, and completely uneventful.

This year, however, I decided to see a different eye doctor. Not because I was having major problems. I just had this nagging feeling that things could be better. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I never felt like my vision was as sharp as it should be.

As it turns out, my instincts may have been onto something.

This doctor spent a lot more time examining my eyes than I was used to. He explained what he was seeing, talked about my astigmatism, and actually seemed interested in figuring out how well I could see. At one point, I was pretty sure he had looked into my eyes long enough to locate my lost car keys.

Then came the surprise.

Apparently, I have enough astigmatism that my eyes have been creating their own special effects department. Headlights, signs, and distant objects weren't necessarily looking the way they were supposed to. The doctor even seemed surprised that I had been wearing regular contacts for as long as I had.

Well, that certainly got my attention.

The best part of the appointment was hearing that he was able to correct my vision to 20/30. No, it isn't perfect. No, I won't be auditioning to become an eagle anytime soon. But after years of feeling like things could be better, hearing that was incredibly encouraging.

Now I have to wait for trial contact lenses to arrive. Apparently, these lenses are designed specifically for my level of astigmatism and need a little time to settle into the correct position when I put them in. Translation: my eyeballs are getting a software upgrade.

What I'm most curious about is what I'll notice first.

Will text look sharper? Will road signs suddenly become easier to read? Will nighttime driving be less of a light show? Or will I discover that trees have had individual leaves all along and I've just been out here free-styling my way through nature?

At this point, anything is possible.

The whole experience reminded me how easy it is to get comfortable with "good enough." We adapt to things. We compensate. We convince ourselves that what we're experiencing is normal simply because it's familiar. Sometimes we don't realize there's a better option until someone helps us see it.

In this case, quite literally.

So yes, the future is looking brighter these days. Partly because I'm optimistic about my new lenses, but mostly because there's a decent chance I'll finally be able to see what I've been missing.

And if I suddenly start reporting that trees are showing off individual leaves and birds have actual facial expressions, you'll know the new contacts are working.