I looked and looked but couldn’t find any pictures of me as a kid with an eye patch on.
That was a joke. It was very subtle, so I’ll give you a moment to read it again.
Instead, you get this lovely shot of me at 4 years old sporting an inward turning eye and some hott octagonal glasses. Now if you can imagine how sassy I was as a 13 month old with glasses strapped to her head, I’ll welcome you to my infancy, my toddler years, and my childhood. Glasses have always been a part of my life.
The eye doctor visit last Tuesday started with the same small talk as any other. I’ve been doing this since I was a wee potato eater, and am eerily ease in doctors offices. Small talk, lots of jokes that catch them off guard, random questions and low blood pressure.
We talked about the freckle on the back of my eye, about the sty from last fall and how my lower lid never really recovered and finally about my increasing frustration with my lack of sight in my left eye.
Doc says he can’t do anything anymore, and he suggests I not bother with glasses to ease the burden on “the good eye” anymore, and I realize I’d never really known what made the bad one bad.
So I asked him and we talked about my adventures as a pirate child and both my brothers eye surgerys and my astigmatism and on and on and then he just breaks it down and says I’ve probably been misdiagnosed most of my life and that I have Refractive Amblyopia.
It sounded fun so I said it a bunch, fast. Amblyopiaamblyopiaamblyopia.
He laughed and told me it stems from childhood and that it’s a condition where the nerves that take the message/picture from your eye around to the back of your brain where they’re interpreted (which I was happy to point out is not a very efficient route) don’t form properly. He tells me the message my left eye sends is bad, so my brain just ignores it.
Somewhat relieved that my bologna had a first name, I went home and Googled. Relief didn’t last, and I was increasingly upset at what I read and what it meant for me and the way I identify myself/with myself…whatever.
So here’s how I’m workin’ it:
My new Indian name? Lazy Eye.
Bonus points because it lets me do things like this without hurting myself.
P.S. Also fun to say? Amberopia.