I told my son earlier today that I received a message from the Optometrist saying his glasses are ready. Paul and I discussed whether or not he should just walk to the doctor after school or wait until I could go with him. He chose to go it alone. The discussion then turned to his upcoming appointment with Ophthalmologist when he will be fitted with the special contact lens. That’s when he told me he isn’t really planning on wearing the lens and would rather just wear the glasses. My heart sank.
I paused for a moment before I reminded him of what the doctor said about treating Keratoconus and that the glasses are just to help him see when the contact is out. He can only wear the lens for 10-12 hours at a time if he wants to avoid causing damage and scarring to his already deformed cornea. His reply was “I don’t care.” Typical teenager.
Next he commented light heartedly about how it sucks to inherit bad eyes from a bunch of distant relatives he never met. “How random is that?” he asked. Very random apparently. I know I had never heard of this disease and nobody I know of has ever heard of it before either. I told Paul to look at it this way; in every other regard he is perfect. My son is smart, funny, tall, and handsome; he has beautiful teeth and BEST OF ALL he is a truly good and kind person. (He's so sweet it makes my teeth hurt to just look at him.) He doesn’t get into trouble and he rarely does anything wrong. (Again – I can’t believe he came out of my body.) So the way I look at it is this; nobody is perfect and this is his flaw. His reply to my rationalization was, “Yeah, I’m just like Jesus - except for the whole healing the blind thing of course.”
Then he asked me why it seemed like everyone else is a lot more worried or concerned about this Keratoconus issue than he is. My heart sank. Again I paused for a moment before replying “Well, why do you think every else seems more concerned?” To which he answered, “Because I choose to live in the near future as opposed to the distant future. It’s much happier there.” I could not think of any way to argue with that logic.
Finally I asked him if he had explained to his friends at school about what was going on and wondered what their reactions are. “I don’t know, not much” he replied. Then he said they're all pretty much going “Really? You can’t see out of your left eye? Hey – how many fingers am I holding up?”
His answer? “Dude - I know you’re flipping me off. I’m not stupid.”
Stumble It!
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