It’s no secret that I am stubborn. I can admit when I’m wrong. Most of the time. Eventually.
Anyway, you get the idea. When I decide where I stand on an issue, after my usual research and skeptical analysis, it’s hard to dislodge, but there is one particular position I have held for nearly 20 years that I am starting to re-evaluate.
I developed cataracts when I was 16 because one factor in the treatment for meningitis is high doses of steroids, which promote cataract formation. Despite my age and medical history, even back then, the doctor failed to inform me of my diagnosis. I found out when my godmother said something about it, but that is anissue for another day.
Since there is no effective, non-invasive treatment for cataracts, they have continued to grow, and grow, and grow. My ophthalmologist says that cataracts grow at about the same rate as sand moves, but after 30 years, dunes do grow.
Even a decade ago, most people with cataracts as large as mine are would have had them removed. Shortly after I started seeing my ophthalmologist in 2005, he raised the idea of surgery. He went over risks and introduced me to an excellent surgeon. He equipped me with everything I needed to make my own decision. And I did. I decided not to do anything. Twice a year at my visits, he briefly raises the issue, and twice a year, I confirm that I’m not ready yet. He doesn’t push or even encourage, he just raises because that’s his job. (This bi-annual exchange is a source of considerable amusement for me, and his neutral approach is what makes him a great fit for me. There are definite echoes of the “I do it!” toddler in all of this.)
He says that I can go until I can’t see anymore, but perhaps preferably, until it starts to interfere with my daily life.
But when is that? It is getting harder to see. I need more light and larger print when I can get it. I tried readers, but since that’s not the problem, they didn’t help. (Reading glasses treat presbyopia, the hardening and thickening of the lens most commonly caused by aging. Cataracts cloud the lens.)
It’s been a while since I drove at night in the rain any place I don’t know like the back of my hand. Not that anyone really enjoys driving at night in the rain, but I lose the lane markers and it’s scary, especially on the highway.
It has also affected my ability to read books, which is one of my major arguments against surgery. When you replace your lenses, you have to choose a range of vision. There is no more auto focus, also called accommodation. I don’t want to lose my nearsightedness, but I only have two eyes, and there are more than two ranges of vision. Practicality dictates that I choose one that isn’t nearsightedness, and I just don’t want to do that. (Losing my accommodation naturally through the aging process would change things, but I am not there yet.)
So, is all of that enough to change a position I have held without wavering for over 15 years? It has entered my mind more and more over the last few months. It’s more of a problem in the winter when it rains in the dark at 4:30 in the afternoon. My problem isn’t going to get any better. And even if I do change my mind, the process of getting comfortable with the choice will take a while. But it does appear I am going to have to undig my heels on this. Maybe. Perhaps.