I Look at Clouds From Both Sides Now
Yesterday, I went to the ophthalmologist (gee, that’s a weird spelling, but that’s what spell-check says and I believe that little spelling-bee guy inside my laptop).
I have had this eye problem for a couple of weeks. “Floaters,” they’re called, and lots of people have them. But my floaters are taking over my left eye. Not-so-little blobs are running around in there… sort of like my neighbor’s runaway sheep.
So I had it checked out.
I have “Posterior Vitreous Detachment.” As the ophthalmologist described it, the thick transparent fluid (vitreous) that fills the bulbus oculi (eyeball) has detached from the retina. In layman’s terms, my jello has shrunk away from the sides of my bowl.
It is not dangerous, but it’s not reversible either. The floaters happen because now my eye can see its own cellular debris. The doctor assured me that it will become less distracting in time, simply because my brain will get used to it.
It’s not so bad; I can live with it. Except for this: The ophthalmologist said, “PVD is an age-related condition. A natural part of the aging process.”
Listen up, Sonnyboy. Maybe you should get your vision checked.
Don’t you see these leg-lengthening slim stylish whiskered jeans?
And how about these fabulous chocolate pearl drop lever-back earrings?
The collagen-plumped lip gloss?
There is nothing about me that is age-related, kiddo.
Why, I even have an iPhone in my purse.
(Well, okay, I concede that I have a purse.)