(no subject)
Memories are a weird thing for me because when people talk about early memories, I don't relate much. I don't remember a whole lot from my childhood, as in, not a whole lot before even fifth grade. I don't remember ever living with my father, but I remember walking up to the apartment we moved into in New Jersey right after my parents divorced, when I was about three. That's the only early memory I've got, and it could very likely be entirely fabricated by my brain.
One memory from childhood that is one hundred percent distinct came in fifth grade. In fourth grade we moved in with my mother's second husband, Dave, and in fifth grade my brother and I started in a new school. Prior to that I was never a very good student. I was always the youngest in my class and a little immature. My mother tells me that all my teachers said I always knew the answer when asked, but I misbehaved a lot. When my mother countered that they weren't challenging me enough, they scoffed. But in fifth grade I had no friends and I didn't know anyone, so I had no choice but to do my homework. There was nothing else for me to do. the first day of school everyone was talking about what they did all summer, and I was silent and doodling on my notebook waiting for class to start.
Making all new friends sucks. It sucked then and it sucks now, but eventually got the new friends. Except since it had become a habit, I kept up with the doing my homework and being smart. Which brings me to my first memory from fifth grade. I couldn't see the board to take notes, so I started standing towards to front of the room and off to the side where I could see better. Fast forward a few months and the school called us in to the nurse's office one at a time for vision testing.
I couldn't see shit. It was devastating. It's bad enough being the new kid. Then I needed glasses on top of it. I didn't cry outright, but I was definitely tearing up.
That was twenty four years ago. The last time I didn't wear corrective lenses. Three quarters of my life has been spent wearing glasses. Even right now sitting on the couch watching Dwyane Wade make a ridiculous lay up with just my bare eyes, it feels like they're sitting on my nose and need to be pushed up.
On Friday I had LASIK. The correction was immediate. As we were walking out to the car, the first words I read were the sign for Buffalo Wild Wings. I kept my eyes closed as prescribed for the next six hours, listening to a book on tape. When I was finally allowed to open my eyes, I watched some idiot try to tightrope across Niagara Falls, and then went to sleep.
I didn't seem real.
I still doesn't.
I still feel like there's glasses on my face, pinching the bridge of my nose. Or that I'm wearing contact lenses that need to be taken out. But twenty four years after a punch to the gut for a nine year old, a thirty three year old got to have a good day.
My vision is already at least 20/40 and it's only going to get better as the healing continues.
One memory from childhood that is one hundred percent distinct came in fifth grade. In fourth grade we moved in with my mother's second husband, Dave, and in fifth grade my brother and I started in a new school. Prior to that I was never a very good student. I was always the youngest in my class and a little immature. My mother tells me that all my teachers said I always knew the answer when asked, but I misbehaved a lot. When my mother countered that they weren't challenging me enough, they scoffed. But in fifth grade I had no friends and I didn't know anyone, so I had no choice but to do my homework. There was nothing else for me to do. the first day of school everyone was talking about what they did all summer, and I was silent and doodling on my notebook waiting for class to start.
Making all new friends sucks. It sucked then and it sucks now, but eventually got the new friends. Except since it had become a habit, I kept up with the doing my homework and being smart. Which brings me to my first memory from fifth grade. I couldn't see the board to take notes, so I started standing towards to front of the room and off to the side where I could see better. Fast forward a few months and the school called us in to the nurse's office one at a time for vision testing.
I couldn't see shit. It was devastating. It's bad enough being the new kid. Then I needed glasses on top of it. I didn't cry outright, but I was definitely tearing up.
That was twenty four years ago. The last time I didn't wear corrective lenses. Three quarters of my life has been spent wearing glasses. Even right now sitting on the couch watching Dwyane Wade make a ridiculous lay up with just my bare eyes, it feels like they're sitting on my nose and need to be pushed up.
On Friday I had LASIK. The correction was immediate. As we were walking out to the car, the first words I read were the sign for Buffalo Wild Wings. I kept my eyes closed as prescribed for the next six hours, listening to a book on tape. When I was finally allowed to open my eyes, I watched some idiot try to tightrope across Niagara Falls, and then went to sleep.
I didn't seem real.
I still doesn't.
I still feel like there's glasses on my face, pinching the bridge of my nose. Or that I'm wearing contact lenses that need to be taken out. But twenty four years after a punch to the gut for a nine year old, a thirty three year old got to have a good day.
My vision is already at least 20/40 and it's only going to get better as the healing continues.