Eyewear, Glasses, Magnifying Glasses,Dark Glasses and Failing Eyesight

I have macular degeneration, the one they can't cure. Dry, is it? I think dry macular degeneration can become wet and they can cure the wet version but, for now, mine's dry. I don't really understand it.

Anyway, the doctors didn't give me much advice or help but the optician turned out to be very helpful. He told me about a low vision clinic where they give partially-sighted people all sorts of help - lights and glasses and whatnot, so I went along.

I was registered as partially sighted which is new to me. I had to give up driving at the start of 2010 which was a heck of a nuisance but I get access to a free book-and-ride service and I take buses which are free and I sometimes use taxis in and out of Guildford, my nearest town. I'm not sure if I get the free rides and buses because I'm now officiallypartially sighted or if it's because I'm over 80. Either way, it's pretty good.

The clinic also sent away for me to get two pairs of free glasses. I didn't know what they'd do really but I'd explained that I have trouble seeing the telly and trouble seeing the gold finches at the bird feeders I put out, and trouble reading and writing. I used to read books all the time. Now I can't.

The boxes arrived today and the two pairs of glasses are quite something. They're not like normal glasses at all. They're like specialised equipment. If you've ever had a diamond valued, you'll have seen the kind of eyepiece the jeweller uses. These glasses are sort of like professional equipment. Each pair has four lenses. There are two smaller lenses near the eye and then two more a bit furthre away. One pair is ivory coloured; the other is kind of silver blue. They're very cool looking. The blue ones look like they could be skiing equipment!

The ivory ones let me read and write. The blue ones magnify the distance. Now, I can sit and look at the gold finches and see amazing detail of their red, black, gold and white feathers. Even the seeds they're eating. It's wonderful. I can see the television and computer screens without peering at them from inches away.

But I do feel my home is getting ever more cluttered with 'vision aids'. Every room features high powered lights, magnifying glasses, dark glasses (which I need to cut daylight glare when I go out - the glare started to affect me after a cataract operation), and now I've got the two latest developments in close-up and faraway glasses. In the kitchen there's a magnifying glass which has a high powered light attached to it so I can read recipe books. I take this to restaurants too, to read menus.

Having poor sight certainly requires a bit of organisation, especially when you have to give up driving. But if all sounds like I'm a walking advert for the optician, I'm not really. You probably would hardly notice the old girl sitting at the restaurant table with friends or family, taking a look at the menu through a little hand-held glass with a light in it. You might just, I suppose, wonder what I was doing out on a not very sunny day wearing big dark glasses. 'Morning head' you might think. And it's true I like a glass or two of wine with dinner. You would, though, almost certainly notice if I went out with the blue high perfomance four-lens glasses on. I expect you'd notice how advanced and science fiction they look and you'd probably wonder what I was doing wearing them. You'd probably say to yourself 'She looks a bit ancient, frankly, to be going skiing.'

Gliding for the over 80s

My first post was about a trip on the London Eye in October 2010, which I really enjoyed.

I described the trip to my children (adult children - I'm 81 and should have called this blog An Old Englishwoman's Life I suppose.) They seemed to think it was a bit adventurous to go on the London Eye at my age. "Not really" I replied. "It wasn't as interesting as the gliding."


"What are you talking about?" they asked.

"The gliding.  A couple of years ago I went gliding. In Cambridgeshire."

News to them. Apparently I didn't mention it at the time. They were probably having some work or marriage drama or drama with the kids.

I told them I'd gone gliding with my...what do I call him? - partner, boyfriend, companion? of 16 years. All the terms sound a bit silly at my age but I was widowed twice before I met him and lost another partner to open heart surgery so I didn't want to get married and I wasn't going to move in with a man. So, let's say partner. Anyway, he came along - he's 85 now - and a friend of ours, Ron, recently widowed, came too.

Was it scary?, my kids asked me.

No.

Not even when you were towed up by the plane and it let go?

I explained that though Brian and Ron were towed up by small planes, my glider was sort of catapulted from a sort of elastic thing. "Except" I explained "it broke just before we left the ground so they had to use another one."

You mean you still went up in the glider just after the thing broke?

Yes.

Anyway, I thought it was wonderful. We got great views of Cambridge - more of the countryside though in fact. Little rivers and fields and church steeples and animals like toy farm animals. It was a lovely summer's day and of course there's no engine so it's lovely and quiet up there. You're just gliding in a little bubble. And half way through, the pilot sitting behind me told me a bit about using the controls - backwards, forwards, up , down and what have you - and then said "OK take the controls. You're flying now."

So I took the controls and flew.

My kids said "Whaaat??!!"

One of them said "Wasn't the pilot worried that you were practically eighty?"

But I said I didn't think so because he'd already told me he was 75.

Anyhow, gliding was wonderful. I was 10 when the second world war started so all through my childhood we were all very conscious of the planes, the spitfires and others on our side and the bombers on the German side, and the pilots. Later, I married the girls' father - obviously - and he was still in the  Royal Air Force. He'd served in the RAF in the war, fighting the Nazis in North Africa and up through Italy. I've flown lots of times as an adult though I never flew as a child - in those days you didn't fly anywhere on holiday. But I think one of the best experiences of flying was being in the little glider and taking the controls for a while.  I may do it again next summer if I think of it.