Author’s note: This is a sequel to the story Reading Glasses or Seeing Glasses? I believe it stands in its own right, but if you are reading the stories on this site, starting with the newest first, I suggest you look down a bit further and read this in sequence.
I’m not quite sure what made me do it. Many times, I had been told that I needed to read more if I wanted my reading to improve, but I always seem to have something which seemed more important, so my reading was mostly confined to what I did when I was supervised by Mum or Dad. When Mum was told she needed a special pair of glasses to make things easier for her to read, it seemed like a good idea to borrow them to see if they helped me as well. So, about a week after she got them, I found myself lying in bed at about half past six on a Sunday morning. No-one else was awake, and they probably wouldn’t be until at least eight o’clock. I snuck downstairs, found Mum’s workbag, and the glasses case within it. It rattled slightly as I shook it, so I knew the glasses were inside. Very quietly, I snuck back upstairs to my room and shut the door behind me. I felt a mixture of feelings, somewhere between nervousness and excitement, as I opened the case and looked at the glasses inside. The answer to all my reading problems was now in my hands. Putting the glasses on, I couldn’t see particularly well, and the frame was a bit too large for me, but I picked up a book, settled back down in my bed, and started to read. It was hard going at first. My eyes had to work hard to make out the words, which seemed rather smaller than I was used to, but the more I read, the more I got into the story and forgot about the effort I was making to focus. All too soon, I had finished the book. I could hear the first stirrings of others in the house, so I took the glasses off, put them back in their case, and hid them at the back of the sock drawer. I was going to try to put them back into Mum’s work bag, but the danger of being caught was too great, so I resolved to do it later, and then forgot all about them. When I got back from my dance lesson the following evening, Mum was not in a very good mood. She was looking everywhere for her reading glasses, but couldn’t find them. She reluctantly agreed that, if she hadn’t taken them out of her bag on Friday evening, she must either have left them at work, or dropped them somewhere before she got home. I wasn’t going to risk admitting to what I had done, and the thought that she might have dropped them somewhere meant that I needed to make sure she never found them again, or I would be in serious trouble. The following evening, after School, I volunteered to do my reading with Mum as soon as I got in. As it was normally such a hassle to get me to read, she sounded a little surprised, but was more than happy not to have the usual battle while she was trying to make dinner. Also, I knew that I would be able to shut myself away in my room until dinner time if I got the reading out of the way earlier on. Once I had shut myself away in my room, I put a couple of large teddy bears in front of the door, to make it hard to open if anyone did try to come in. Then, I got the glasses back out of their case, selected a different book, and sat on my bed to read. As the previous day, it was hard work at first, but I soon overcame the focussing issue and enjoyed the story. It took me about an hour and a quarter to finish the book, so I knew I wouldn’t be able to complete a second one before dinner, and I turned the television on instead. I was going to put the glasses away, as they were to help me read, but curiosity got the better of me, and I kept them on while I watched the television. It seemed further away than normal, and a little smaller, but I didn’t have to put as much effort into focussing to watch it as I had while reading my book, so I didn’t take the glasses off until dinner time. By that point, I also needed the toilet, so I put the teddy bears back where they normally lived and went downstairs to join the rest of the family. The glasses were once again hidden at the back of the sock drawer. Apart from Mondays, when I did my dancing, this became the pattern of life for the next few months. I occasionally did some reading at weekends, too, but as I often had to go out on Saturdays because David had a football match and on Sundays when we went to visit grandparents, it all rather depended on what time I woke up. Both Mum and my teacher commented on how much my reading was improving, so I knew the glasses were working for me, but it was also true that I was enjoying the books more, so there was more incentive for me to read. It was shortly before Christmas that I noticed that my eyes weren’t really taking much time to adjust themselves when I read, and it seemed to take longer for things to come back into focus when I took the glasses off for dinner. I could still see everything I needed to without them, but during the Christmas holidays, I seemed to spend most of the time shut away in by bedroom with my nose stuck in a book. Most of my Christmas presents were books as well, and I also persuaded Mum to let me go to the Library before the dancing every Monday, so I had an almost endless supply of material to read. When I returned to school after Christmas, I realised I was struggling to see the board from where I was sitting, so I asked if I could move closer to the front of the room in order to concentrate better. It was true that a couple of the boys who were sitting near me seemed to spend a lot of their time chatting, but it also made it much easier for me to see what was going on. I also made a point of volunteering to read out loud from the book as often as possible, so I wasn’t asked to do work off the board instead, as I was never sure whether I would be able to read it clearly or not. It was all these little things that made me realise that I needed my own pair of glasses. There were a couple of children in my class who wore them, so I made a point of asking to try them on when I got the chance. One of them made everything far worse, while the other girl’s, who had started wearing glasses over Christmas, made little of no difference to what I could see. I didn’t understand how she could possibly need them. As Easter drew closer, I realised that I was virtually trapped in my own bedroom. Inside, I could wear Mum’s glasses, and everything seemed very bright and clear. Outside, it was all one big blur. I didn’t dare say anything, as I knew I would be in trouble both for stealing Mum’s glasses and for ruining my own eyesight. The thought of wearing glasses didn’t bother me at all. Both my parents wore them, and David had pretty much been told that he was going to get some next time he had his eyes tested, so it was fairly likely that I would have to wear them too, one day. Except that that day had arrived, but I was too scared to say anything. I comforted myself with the fact that I knew we would be taken for an eye exam later in the year, but the day couldn’t really come soon enough. I wasn’t best pleased the day that David burst into my room to offer me an ice cream. I knew he’d seen me wearing Mum’s glasses, so there was no point in denying it. Fortunately, I was able to prevent him from running off to tell Mum what I’d done with a useful piece of information I had on him. I tried to pretend that I didn’t really need the glasses by putting them up on top of my head, but when they fell down for the second time, I realised that it was more useful if I could see his facial expressions, so I left them there. In the end, it proved to be a blessing in disguise; our trip to the Optician’s was booked for the start of the Summer holidays, rather than the end. I watched and listened carefully as David took his turn before me. From the side of the room, I was able to read the top two lines on the eye chart, so I memorised those. When he was told he needed glasses for seeing the board at school, but that he didn’t need to wear them all the time, I realised that I was going to need to wear mine rather more than that. I won’t say that I faked the eye exam, when my turn came, but I wasn’t 100% truthful, either. I started by reciting the top two lines from memory, as I couldn’t see anything other than three black blobs. Once I had the funny trial frames on, it took a few different lenses until things started to become clearer. Little by little, I was able to read the smaller letters at the bottom of the chart. When I could read the bottom line, the optician started asking me whether the letters were clearer with or without, or about the same. I really couldn’t tell, so the first time I said “with”, the second “without”, the third time “with” and then “about the same,” and then repeated the process with my left eye. I was also given a small hand chart to read; the letters were tiny, but with the funny glasses on I could read what I was asked to. I knew exactly what the verdict was going to be as the trial frame was taken off my face, but I had to go through a few more tests yet before it was given. Even then, I was rather surprised by the outcome. “Chelsea’s eyes have changed a lot since she last had her eyes tested, and she is now a very short-sighted young lady. Hers is one of the strongest first prescriptions I have ever seen, and she will need to wear her glasses all the time. I’m not sure what has caused her eyes to change so much in the last year; they seem very healthy, but I’d like to see her again in no more than four months. If her eyes change as rapidly as they have over the last year, she may need to come in again sooner, and we may have to refer her to a specialist.” The phrases “one of the strongest first prescriptions I have ever seen” and “see her again in no more than four months” were the two which stuck in my mind. I had always assumed that once you got glasses, that was it. However, I was quite pleased to be told that I needed to wear them all the time, as it meant an end to not being able to see properly whenever I came out of my bedroom. As we went out to choose our frames, I couldn’t help but overhear the optician telling Mum that the lenses I had selected where quite a bit stronger than the autorefractor had suggested I needed, so I should come back in immediately if I complained the glasses were too strong. Three days later, I had my own pair of glasses! They did seem stronger than Mum’s reading glasses, but I was thrilled to be able to look around the shop and see things clearly. Mum looked as if she wanted to cry when she looked at me, but she didn’t say anything other than how nice both David and I looked in our new glasses. When we got home, I went straight to the mirror in the bathroom to see what I looked like. It wasn’t hard to tell that the lenses were strong. The sides of my face seemed so much smaller through the lenses, which were just thick enough to be poking out of the sides of the frames. Back in my bedroom, I compared what I could and could not see with Mum’s glasses, my own glasses and nothing at all. Just for fun, I even tried both pairs together, but could not see anything like that. When David came in, we swapped glasses. His were just like my schoolfriend’s: virtually useless. He even asked me how my glasses compared with Mum’s. I told him that I could see things that bit more clearly with my own. Well, it was true, if I didn’t wear them pushed up tight against my face. He did tell me that my numbers were -4.50 and -4.25, but they meant nothing to me. And even though I could tell that the glasses were a bit too strong for me, I wasn’t going to complain at all, as I didn’t want to lose what I could see if they decided to change the lenses. When Mum asked me a few days later how I was adapting to them, I said they were perfect as, by that time, I was fully used to them. I wore my glasses every waking moment throughout the Summer holidays. As I could now see properly, I did venture out of my room a bit more often, but as I was more than happy to spend my days reading, I still did quite a lot of it. I had almost forgotten that my classmates had never seen me in glasses when we returned to school. They were surprised to see me in glasses, shocked at how strong they looked, and professed me to be virtually blind when they tried them on. I didn’t mind one bit, because with them, I knew I could see just as well as them. November came, and with it, a letter to say that I needed another eye appointment. I tried to put it off, but Mum insisted. As David was now at secondary school, he made his own way home at the end of the day, so it was just me. This time, I decided to be truthful. I didn’t really want to get new glasses, as I was happy with the ones I already had. I couldn’t read the top two lines on the chart, so I said so. I heard Mum gasp at this. Clearly, she thought my eyes had got a lot worse. I was honest, also, when we got to the smallest letters, and when the lenses started to make the letters harder to read, I told the truth. When we reached the end of the test, the optician had me put my own glasses back on, and then held a couple of lenses in front of them to show me how much more I would be able to see when I got my new glasses. I was surprised at the difference. I didn’t really want to get new glasses, as I liked the ones I had. I tried on a few frames, but couldn’t find anything I really liked, so Mum asked whether they could put my new lenses into my old frames. When they said this could take up to a week to do, and that I would have to be without my glasses for that time, we asked whether I could just get the same frame as last time, but with new lenses in. According to the computer in the shop, the frame did still exist, so that is what we agreed to do. It also meant that nobody outside the immediate family would ever know that I had new glasses. This time, they didn’t mark the order as urgent, so I did have to wait a week until I got them. They did make my face look a little smaller, and if you put both pairs of glasses side by side, you could tell that one pair had slightly thicker lenses, but from a distance, they were the same thing. One or two classmates might have guessed, but no-one said anything. Occasionally, someone asked to try them on, but they soon gave them back, as they didn’t improve their vision at all. I might not have wanted to get new glasses, but I did appreciate the difference they made once I had got them. We went through pretty much the same process at Easter. The slight difference this time was that I had already worked out that I needed stronger lenses. I did wonder what would happen if I adopted the same tactic as I had when I got my first pair – how strong my glasses would be – but I decided to be good, and be truthful. I still didn’t want anyone to know I had new glasses again, so I chose the same frame. Again, when they came in, I could tell how much better I could see. There was little difference between the second and third pairs, but when I compared them with my first pair, the lenses were noticeably thicker, my face was clearly smaller, and I could see well. The first pair, which had been a bit strong for me just eight months ago, were now totally inadequate outside the four walls of the house. When the Summer came around, I wasn’t sure whether I needed new glasses or not. I might have tried to persuade Mum to leave the appointment until just before we went back to school, but as David needed his appointment, and she also thought she needed new glasses, there seemed little point in trying to put it off. The eye test brought good news and bad. The good news is that my eyes were not changing as quickly as they had first feared, so I could have six-monthly check-ups (I still hadn’t owned up to borrowing Mum’s reading glasses, and had conveniently “lost” them inside the sofa a couple of months ago); the bad news was that, at the age of 9 years and 2 months, I was going to have to wear the strongest glasses in the house: minus six point two five in both eyes, and I now qualified as a “high myope,” although I couldn’t really tell what benefits there were to this. I wanted to get the same frame for the fourth time, but it was pointed out that it was becoming a little small for my face, so I might like to select something from the “Teens” range instead. The frame I eventually chose was probably a bit big for me, but I liked the colour (a deep green). Another week’s wait ensued before I was able to see clearly again. The lenses were noticeably thicker, and when I found Mum’s old glasses in a drawer, even I could tell that mine were stronger than hers had been. In fact, I found several pairs of her old glasses hiding in the same place. One pair were about the same strength as mine, the rest were a bit weaker. Every time one of my classmates came in with new glasses, either a first pair or a new prescription, there was a lot of swapping of glasses which went on. Mostly, it was along the lines of “yours are a bit stronger than mine,” or “I can see really well with these.” Sometimes, someone would say “I can see better with these” and would restart the whole swapping process again a few weeks later when they came in with new glasses. In one way, I felt a bit left out, as no-one ever said they could see better with my glasses, but as I was able to say that my glasses were a -6.25, they looked on me as some sort or glasses-wearing expert, even if, 2 years earlier, I had had perfect eyesight. When it came to six months, I already knew I was going to be getting new glasses. Distant objects had a very definite blur to them, and I had made a point of asking to be sitting near the front of the classroom so that I could see properly. I had half thought of asking if the appointment could be made a bit earlier, but as that would have meant trying to fit it in over Christmas, another month’s wait was not going to do any great harm. In order to feel I belonged a bit better, I made a point of choosing a different frame to the one I had got in the Summer; the same style, but in a deep blue, rather than green. That way, the others knew that I had new glasses, and I became the centre of attention once playtime came. As always, nobody could see anything with them, but, rather like the ugly sisters in Cinderella with the glass slipper, they had to try them. “Minus seven in both eyes.” Once again, I had been tempted to see whether I could get them to be a bit stronger, but was glad I hadn’t as I would have been back to four-monthly check-ups if I had. As I knew how strong my glasses were, the others in my friendship group had started to ask about the strength of their own glasses, and were starting to compare numbers. The closest to mine was one girl with -1.50 in one eye, but only -0.50 in the other. There were a couple of -1s, but the rest were weaker than that. At one point, they had me trying to wear five pairs of glasses at the same time, just to see what I could see. We knew that four of the pairs added up to about -5.50, but as the fifth girl was waiting for her next appointment in a couple of months’ time, and couldn’t say how strong her glasses were, we didn’t know whether we were up to the magical minus seven or not. Either way, it proved almost impossible to wear five pairs at the same time, so I was just happy to put my own back on. I couldn’t resist the temptation to try it with my own five pairs of glasses when I got home, but with a total prescription of over -30, not only was it impractical, but everything was a very tiny blur. I did eventually go back to four monthly check-ups, at my own request. We had made sure that my glasses were up-to-date when I joined David at the local secondary school. Unless someone was wearing contact lenses, I clearly had the strongest glasses in the school already. I had just been given a prescription of -9.25 for both eyes, and told to come back again in six months’ time for my next check-up. However, the optician did say that it was not uncommon for girls of my age to need more frequent changes in their glasses as they went from being a girl to a young woman, so I did not have to wait the six months if I felt that I needed to come back sooner. It was about the end of November, when I first noticed that things were not right. It was another six or seven weeks until I was due for my six-monthly check, but some of the lessons were a real struggle. I worked out that, if I waited until Christmas, there was a danger that we would all be too busy to fit in an appointment, and that, if I left it until Christmas, I would be made to wait until January anyway. By wearing a couple of pairs of my old glasses (the first and third pairs together worked best), I could see more clearly than with my current pair, but there was no way I was doing that at school, just to be able to see. I know it was a little naughty of her, but Mum deliberately booked the appointment for the beginning of the afternoon, so that she could pick me up on her way home from work. I wasn’t too sad about missing a PE lesson, as any sports outdoors in the rain are a pretty miserable experience, especially when you wear glasses. It also gave us a little mother-and-daughter time together, so we used it to find some clothes to fit my changing body shape. When it came to the sight test, things didn’t go particularly well, and I emerged with a piece of paper with R -10.00 L -10.50 written on it, and the words “four-month recall” as well. We did ask how much worse my eyes were likely to get, but didn’t really get an answer. It was highly unusual to go from perfect eyesight to my prescription in only four years, but if they said that it only happened to one person in ten million, someone had to be that one person, and, on this occasion, it was me. The lenses in my new glasses were just over a centimetre thick. They did warn me this was likely to happen, but I wanted a particular type of frame, and we were advised against going to high-index lenses as I was very likely to need several changes in prescription in the coming year. Once I had got over the initial shock at seeing the lenses, and the goldfish-bowl effect in the new frames, I loved them. They certainly made a statement. It wasn’t until I turned seventeen that my age finally overtook my glasses prescription. More than once, I had been accused to getting new glasses just to show off, but thanks to the good old NHS, they didn’t cost as much as people thought. My parents did offer to get me contact lenses, but I couldn’t stand the thought of putting something in my eyes, so eventually I plucked up the courage to ask if I could use the money to help thin down my lenses instead. So that’s my story. I’m now eighteen years old, with a glasses prescription of R-16.50 L -17.50. I’m waiting for my A-level results. If I get the grades I want, I’m off to study English at the University of Oxford. I suspect that I would always have ended up wearing glasses, but if I hadn’t borrowed my mother’s reading glasses at the tender age of eight, I may never have discovered the pleasures of life which can be found within the covers of a good book. I’ve been told that I may still be due a few more changes in my prescription before my eyes finally settle down, but I’d known then what I know now, I might even have raided my mother’s collection of old glasses a bit earlier in life.
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