I see?

For the past several weeks, I've been fighting the realization that I'm not seeing so well these days. I've tried to brush it off as the result of eye fatigue from staring at the computer screen so much, but I'm only lying to myself. Today, when I came in from a beautiful morning run, my upstairs hallway seemed almost smoky as my eyes struggled to adjust to the light shift from outside to in. And the past several ski days have brought much frustration, as I struggle to identify terrain features in the flat light and grow increasingly terrified of being killed by a snowboarder (or inadvertently flattening a small child myself).

Even climbing, which has always made me feel confident, successful, and strong, lately has underscored my vision loss. At least this is so in the rock gym, where the lines of tape marking each route seem to wiggle away from my sight-line like brightly colored, mischievous caterpillars. Climbing outside on Sunday was almost a relief, since on real rock I can feel my way around for holds rather than searching for a designated chunk of plastic.

There is nothing to be done about this, of course. And so I laugh it off and continue in my persistent efforts to make going blind simply another vehicle for self-mockery and the amusement of the masses. Because when I acknowledge that perhaps I've lost another measurable increment of sight, it's not so funny anymore.