The Gift of Sight


Okotoks, Alberta

Once a year when I was in grade school, we were subjected to public health examinations.



My friend Randy had poor eyesight, but he didn’t want to wear glasses. As we were milling around the exam room, Randy took a close look at the chart and memorized the bottom rows of print.

By the time his turn came, Randy had forgotten most of the letters. When the nurse asked him to read the bottom lines he improvised. Randy looked at the chart, squinted a little and said;

Printed by the Canadian National Institute for the Blind

The nurse was shocked! She went closer to the chart, looked at the tiny print below the Snellen letters and announced,


It was foggy when I drove to the optometrist in Okotoks this morning. It occurred to me that this is what life would be like without corrective lenses – navigating the world in a haze.



Going to the doctor or the dentist isn’t much fun, but an optometrist! I have been looking forward to this. A very perky receptionist updated my file when I arrived and seated me.



Optometrists have all the cool equipment, and there is no pain involved. Getting an eye exam is like a trip to a theme park, each stop is a new ride.

The first event on the ophthalmological parade was the video game machine.  The technician gave me a hand-held switch and asked me to stare into the machine, at a dot in the centre of a grid.  She said to click the device every time I saw flashing bars in my periphery.



I was just getting the hang of it when the technician made me stop ponging and move on to the next contraption.

Of all the optical attractions, the retinal imaging machine is the least fun.  It is the one where you rest your chin and your forehead on straps, while the tech runs a red laser over your eyeball.



The puff of air machine is a practical joke optometrists play. I don’t think it has any diagnostic purpose; they just enjoy telling you not to blink while they shoot air into your eyes.



The real fun begins in the exam room. 

The One or Two? Two or Three? Three or Four? … contraption is exciting.  It takes a combination of luck and skill to determine which line of text is the clearest with each flip of the lenses. 



Optometrists need to have nice pens and perfect ears.  That test where they ask you to follow their pen with your eyes works better with a Montblanc than a Bic. And nobody wants to look at a hairy ear in the “close one eye and look at my earlobe” test. 



The most exciting part of a trip to the optometrist is at the end of the visit when you get to look at the inside of your own eyes. 



I could have sat there all day as the optometrist described blotches and light spots on the Martian surface of my eye. An uncharted mysterious world exists inside my own head!


Alas, the exam was over too soon, and I was handed off to the frame-fitting opticians in the foyer.

The slip of paper I carried out with me indicated that my eyes are in good health, with only slight deterioration in distance vision. I will need a new set of lenses to correct it.

There are a wide selection of frames to choose from, but I had my heart set on one I had seen in the doctor’s office.



The fog had lifted when I ventured back out into the real world.  As I drove home, I gazed in wonder at the frosty trees, the hazy mountains, and the blazing sky.  I felt a renewed appreciation for …

… the gift of sight.


Images in this gallery are courtesy of Gervais Goodman.





Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *