Several years ago I realized a dream I didn’t know began in fourth grade when I was sentenced to using eyeglasses on a daily basis. It took me a while to get the hang of them and I’d often arrive at school sans glasses not realizing my error until I was squinting at the blackboard, unable to determine what was on it. This being the late 70’s, glasses for kids were pretty damn ugly. I hid them as often as I could – at recess, playing with friends and even while reading, preferring to stuff my nose in a book rather than suffer the indignity of being called four eyes. What was the dream? Lasik surgery!
But let me back up because that wasn’t the first dream of bespectacled me because as soon as I heard about the existence of contact lenses, I knew they were for me. I begged for them. Honestly I begged at every chance and mom would always say maybe when you’re older and more responsible. When I graduated from eighth grade, I was suddenly old enough and responsible enough and I couldn’t get to the eye doctor soon enough. This was bigger for me than turning sixteen and going to get your driver’s permit.