Phoebe’s Last Chance
„This is your last chance, Phoebe.” Dr. Jones looked at the 17 year old girl who was sitting in the chair in his office. “You know that your vision is not good, so you should decide if you want to improve it. Of course this means some work but it will be worth it.” Phoebe bit her lower lip and peered through the trial frames on her nose, looking at her old her glasses that seemed useless to her. She did not dare to look at Dr. Jones. He had told her so many things about her eyes, how they should function and why they didn’t. She felt a bit dizzy. She looked at the eye test chart, still not able to see one of the smaller letters. She felt guilty. For not wearing the glasses, for not asking for an appointment when she noticed more difficulties with reading about one year ago. For denying everything when her parents noticed that something must be wrong with her eyes. She had always hoped that it might get better again. But obviously it didn’t. Phoebe had gotten glasses at the age of five, and she had worn them for some years. It was no big deal in elementary school, but when she became a teenager, she had disliked them more and more. She thought she looked ugly wearing glasses. And anyway, her eyes seemed to be alright. She could read the board at school without glasses, and she could read a book without glasses. So why should she wear them? One day she had put them into their box, thrown them in a drawer and forgotten about them. “I don’t need them anymore”, she had said proudly when people asked about them. It was only half a lie. Everything was great for some years. But when Phoebe had started her senior year, she noticed difficulties when she had to switch between distances. After reading for some time, things far away looked blurry. And after looking at the board for some minutes, the letters on the worksheet were not only blurry too – they sometimes seemed to dance. She knew that something was wrong, but at the same time she did not want to admit it. “Is everything alright with your eyes, Phoebe?” a teacher had asked her one day after a lesson. Phoebe did not answer, she just nodded. “I noticed your left eye turning in quite often, that’s why I ask!” Phoebe had turned red, her hands were shaking a bit, but she managed to answer: “Well, that happens now and then, nothing to worry about!” Then she had run to the ladies’ room, locked herself in a cubicle and began to cry. At home, she had searched her drawer for her old glasses. When she eventually had found them, she tried them on. Her eyes felt instantly more relaxed but her vision was not noticeable better. At least that’s what she thought. A look into the mirror revealed that she still looked ugly with those glasses, and the pre-teen frames were too small and did not suit her anyway, so she put them away again. A little piece of cardboard that was wrapped in the cleaning cloth fell out of the box. It read: R +1.00 L +2.75 cyl -0.75 15° Phoebe shrugged. The numbers didn’t tell her anything. She put the piece of cardboard into the box again, put the cleaning cloth over it, closed the box and threw it into her drawer again. The problem was just that her vision didn’t improve. The opposite happened. Her eyes became weaker and weaker. One evening she tried her old glasses for reading in bed. It felt easier so she kept them on, but she felt bad about it because she had just admitted to herself that – well, that she needed them. For a couple of months she wore the glasses for reading in bed. Sometimes when she was alone at home she also wore them for homework, for computer work and for using her smartphone. She hid them in a box under her bed and she made sure that nobody noticed it. She did not want to need glasses but it was much easier even with her old pre-teen glasses. And when she took them off, her eyes felt heavy, and everything was double for at least half an hour. It was hard not to let anybody know that something was really wrong with her vision. But somehow it worked.
One morning her mum opened Phoebe’s door. “Good morning, time to get up”, she cheered. Phoebe opened one eye and squinted. Something was different. “Eh – Phoebe?” Her mum came into her room. “Why are you wearing your old glasses?” Suddenly Phoebe was wide awake. Damn! She had fallen asleep while reading with the glasses on! “What? It’s not – “ she stammered and pulled them off. Her mom sat down on her bed while Phoebe hid her face in her pillow. “Phoebe, dear”, she said softly. “You don’t need to hide. If you can’t see well, we’ll get you an appointment with Dr. Jones.” Phoebe started to cry. “I don’t want glasses again”, she sobbed. “But dear, glasses are no big deal!”, her mum tried to console her. “So many people wear glasses. And of course you can choose the nicest frames!” “But I don’t want to have the nicest frames”, Phoebe sobbed. “I just hate to wear any glasses!” “Phoebe”, her mum said calmly. “It is five years ago that you stopped wearing your glasses. I know you never liked them, but believe me, nobody will remember that you wore them. You’ll get an appointment with Dr. Jones, you’ll get nice frames, and you only wear them when you feel that you need them. For reading for example. You don’t have to wear them always, I think you should know best when you need them and when not.” Phoebe sighed and dried the tears with her shirt. “Okay mum, I may give it a try.” “Perfect!” her mum smiled. “And don’t think that I didn’t notice your difficulties with your vision!” “How could you know?” Phoebe asked. She had tried to hide her bad vision. “Very easy”, her mum said. “You are holding things far away when looking at them. You stopped reading books, and you stopped doing your homework in the kitchen, so something must have changed. And your left eye turned in more often.” “No!” Phoebe was devastated. “Yes”, her mum said. “Ehm – right now.” Phoebe could not believe it. She felt for the glasses she had just pushed under her pillow. She found them and slowly put them on. “Better?” she asked. Her mum shook her head. “Sorry, dear. Not a bit.” And there she sat now, in the big black fake leather chair in Dr. Jones’s office. And Dr. Jones seemed very concerned. “How could you get along without glasses for so many years”, he wondered. Phoebe shrugged. “It was okay at school, only a bit straining”, she said. “And at night I used these old glasses for reading. But they only help a bit.” “Sure, because they are way too weak”, Dr. Jones said. “How often did you have headaches?” “About every second day”, Phoebe admitted. “Some Aspirin always helped, so no problem. On some days I needed a second Aspirin in the evening.” “No good way, young lady”, Dr. Jones scolded her. “Now please try to read the letters on the eye chart.” He took a black eyepatch from a drawer and tied it around her head, covering the left eye. Phoebe shook her head. “I can’t read it”, she admitted quietly. Dr. Jones pressed a button and some larger letters appeared on the wall. “This could be H, A and… I’m not sure, B?” Again larger letters appeared and now Phoebe could read them. “So it’s 20/50 for your right eye”, he said and put the eyepatch in front of her right eye. “Can you read this with your left eye too?” Phoebe slowly shook her head. Dr. Jones used larger letters until she finally could recognize them. “20/400 for your left eye”, he said with concern. “Do you know that this means you are legally blind in this eye?” “No, oh no!” Phoebe cried. “Now let’s see if some lenses can help you”, he suggested. “Do you have your old RX with you, or can you give me your glasses, I’ll have them measured.” “Here it is”, Phoebe said, pulling out the small piece of cardboard with the values. He looked at it, chose some lenses on his phoropter and swung it in front of Phoebe’s eyes. After the well-known “better or not” game Phoebe could see 20/30 with her right eye and 20/100 with her left. Dr. Jones wrote down the new values. “Let’s look at what has changed”, he said. “You are clever enough to understand. First about your right eye. Your old RX is +1.25, and now you need +3.00 and a small cylinder of -0.25. About your left eye, well, it really worries me. Your old RX is +2.75 with a cylinder of -0.75. The good news is that the cylinder has not changed. The bad news is that you need +6.25 and only get 20/100 with that. Well, it’s a huge increase in both eyes, but it will help you.”
Phoebe sighed. It’s not only that she needed glasses, but she needed really strong glasses. “There is still something about your left eye”, Dr. Jones continued. “It only seems to be straight when your right eye is closed. When both eyes are open, it always turns to your nose – sometimes more, sometimes less.” “Is there a way to straighten it?” Phoebe asked hopefully. Dr. Jones smiled. “It has to get stronger first”, he said. “You should now try your new RX now, let’s see how your eyes react to it.” He put some lenses in a trial frame and handed it to Phoebe who put it on. “Try to look around, maybe walk some steps”, he encouraged her. She slipped out of the chair and walked cautiously across the room. “How can you see?” Dr. Jones asked. “Much better”, Phoebe said. “But still blurry in the distance.” “This will go away soon”, he said. “Look at me, please – ah, you are still crosseyed. Can you hand me the trial frames please?” He took a black lens from his box and exchanged it for the right lens. Phoebe put the frames on again. “Why did you do that?” she asked. “Well, let’s concentrate a bit on your weaker eye”, he said. “First I want to know how you get along only with your left eye. Can you walk to the door?” Phoebe walked slowly to the entrance, looking carefully at her feet. “Okay”, Dr. Jones said. “Now walk over to my desk and get a pen and the notepad.” Phoebe did it. “Now sit down here and write your name on one page”, he said. Phoebe opened the notepad and wrote her name in large and uneven letter. She felt weak and half blind. Dr. Jones took off her trial frames again and put in another lens. “Can you write your name again?” he asked. Phoebe wrote her name again, this time quite neat and not too big. Then she was asked to read some letters and numbers. “Do you think you could get along like this?” Dr. Jones finally asked. “Like this – you mean with only one eye?” Phoebe asked carefully. “Yes, exactly”, he nodded. “Your new RX will support the eye very well, and with the reading add I gave you, you won’t have any problems with near tasks. Do you want to give it a try?” Phoebe bit her lower lip. Legally blind, she thought. Crossed eyes. Finally she nodded. “Yes, I will give it a try”, she said firmly. One hour later, her new glasses were ready. She took the new big blue plastic frames with the black right lens and put them on. Then the optician removed the black foil and looked if everything was alright with the glasses. Phoebe could see well with the new lenses, much better than on any of the days in the last years. The optician put the black foil in a small paper envelope. “You need to wear it for some hours each day, I think”, he said. “I’ll put it in here so you can use it at home.” “Can you please put it on again?” Phoebe heard herself saying. “I’m supposed to wear it all the time, and it is definitely better than without!” She could not believe what she had just said. The optician put the black occlusion on her right lens again. Phoebe pushed the new glasses on her face and felt her weak left eye straightening. “Thank you very much”, she said, left the shop and proudly walked to the bus stop. The world looked so much better through her new glasses. Her journey could begin.