Here’s my recent news. I don’t wear glasses anymore. At least not for the moment.

I had both eyes de-fogged. It was time. I couldn’t read the numbers on my daily crossword puzzle unless I was in very bright light, nor the instructions on the outside of pill bottles. And, even if I used the strongest magnifying glass, I still couldn’t always make out the words. Everything looked smeary.

I bought a three-pack kit of the strongest reading glasses I could find. Ugly boogers. But hey, I needed to see. The ugly things didn’t look so glamorous, but they helped a bit.

I thought my glasses were dirty and was always cleaning them. At night, I couldn’t see where the road turned onto another street if there were no streetlights. Traveling north on 281, and turning west onto highway K-19, I considered myself successful if I didn’t end up in the ditch.

Maybe I might eventually need reading glasses, but so far, I see clearly. The best part is that I don’t wear those ridiculous looking Mr. Peepers black-rimmed glasses that I have once thought looked good on my face. Being able to work at the computer, read a book, or watch TV without those things on my face is new to me. 

The first week of adjusting to this new, clear, sight, I looked in the mirror and wondered who was looking back at me. She looks like my mother did in her later years. Oh, you too? You see your mother in the mirror? Too bad all our mothers are not still alive. They would laugh at us and say, “Ha. Ha. Gotcha!”

I couldn’t understand where all those wrinkles suddenly came from, either. There are cracks all over my face! I didn’t catch on for awhile until last Friday at coffee, one of my BFF’s remarked that she too found that the process of removing cataracts made more wrinkles on her face as well.  It must be traumatic to the face and the face just curls up like a dried apple. No? You don’t think that’s the reason?

I do want to encourage you all to have this simple surgery if you need the help I did. Truly miraculous.

Oh, aging. What an experience!

Unfortunately, everything cannot be solved with an operation.

And then, there’s the subject of those hearing holes on each side of the head. They don’t work like they used to either unless it’s just that people mumble more these days.

Recognizing our failing senses, Fred and I have made some adjustments at this time of our lives. Since we don’t hear as well as we once did, we have agreed not to communicate with each except when we are in the same room. I like to shout my ideas to him when I am in my office, and he is down the hall in his office area. Guess that’s not in the agreement. 

Some of the words get so muddled if we don’t adhere to our new “rule” that if we didn’t revisit the communication issue, our articles in the newspaper would be written about something totally bizarrely, different. 

But we sure can’t complain. These are small problems, and always a challenge. It’s great to get some of them resolved. Just watch out for wrinkles appearing from nowhere. 

Judi Tabler lives in Pawnee County and is a guest columnist for the Great Bend Tribune. She can be reached atjuditabler@gmail.com.