I had an appointment this morning to see an eye doctor. My glasses have sorely needed a new prescription for a good number of years now, but opportunity and money always seemed to be getting in the way of seeing that through. (
See what I did there? "
SEE" ? EHHH?? ... nevermind

)
It's remarkable, really, how long I've been tolerating having a sub-standard prescription in my glasses. It's less noticeable when you're in your own home most of the time... but holy moley is it noticeable if I go out for any reason. Can't really make out street signs unless I'm sitting on top of them. Walking around a place like Target feels like I'm wading through an ocean of blurry cotton balls and garish piles of unidentifiable "stuff" until I'm nose to nose with it ("Why am I in kitchenwares? I thought these were DVDs...").
Lately, and with the advent of HD tv, I'm noticing myself scrunching up my face more (in an attempt to squint, I suppose) just to watch television. My brain knows it's supposed to be sharper than what I see... so my face starts automatically doing an impression of a Pekingese in order to see better.
And you know what? That's
tiring! (and as if I need more reasons to be unattractive, this doesn't help... some people have "laugh lines"... I'll probably develop "scrunch lines")
My parents, as with most things, are helping me with this predicament. They know the doctor, set up the appointment, etc. But an all too familiar scenario played out this morning, that's just... ugh. For lack of a better word.
In a nutshell (bet you didn't see this coming!): I couldn't go.
I wasn't debilitated beyond all hope, but I just couldn't go. I had less than two hours of sleep last night; my left thigh was cramping for half the night. Seems to happen to me from time to time, these nighttime leg cramps. Sometimes it feels like I wake up (from the horrific pain) catching my limbs trying to change their shape into that of something else entirely. What had been my thigh, when I went to sleep, is now a pogo stick. Think: balloon animals, with all the twisting and squeaking, but 100% fewer clowns. And also more stifled screams.
It hasn't happened in a while, but it's been four nights running now, and I am just... wiped out. More than usual. Barely enough to get myself showered, dressed and flopped back down in a chair. Also my intestines feel like they're playing racquetball. That's not helping. I can't even tell who's winning in there.
I'm long-accustomed to having to cancel plans for these kinds of reasons, but the disappointment I feel, and the disappointment in others never fails to hit me right in the soul. Or if my soul had a stomach, maybe it's like hitting it there.
I broke the news to my mom early this morning that it was a "no go" and she just looked so... dejected. And then said "Can we pleeeeeease get your eyes taken care of this morning?" (yes, she said it like that) I didn't know how to articulate in that moment that "please" has
nothing to do with it. And I came away feeling that even though it's
my eyes that will have to wait on getting seen and helped, it was
her I was disappointing.
This is why I'm ever hesitant to commit to any plans, for anything. This is why I always feel I have to add the caveat "if I'm feeling up to it" after any potential plan made.
This is one of the many many reasons why I wish I had a different life.
Or maybe a hundred million dollars. Then I can pay the doctors, the people, the entertainment to come to ME when the situation warranted it.
Sigh.
Thanks for reading.
~ NMP