I Have Terrible Vision

In a mad rush to max out my vision plan, I ended up getting contact lenses on my very last day in San Francisco, which is coming up on almost a year ago.  This was my second time getting contact lenses, as I came relatively late to the I-can't-see-without-making-the-oh-so-attractive-squint-face party.  The first time, it was no big deal, so I didn't build in any buffer time for "are you kidding me with this prescription?"  This turned out to be a bad call, as it was immediately clear that my new contacts did not meet my vision needs.  I assumed I was having difficulty adjusting to a new brand, since the glasses I got at the same time from the same optometrist worked like a charm.

 

Fast forward one year (almost!).  I kept reordering the same contacts because I no longer had vision coverage, and I just got used to the fact that I couldn't see.  I finally decided to celebrate my new income by treating myself to an eye exam and a new prescription.  The optometrist was this charming little old Italian man.  He used my name after every question: "Which is better, 1 or 2, Julie?" which never got grating.  And I told him I brought my old prescription with me, but he insisted on waiting until he figured mine out to look at it. 

 

When the moment of truth came, his jaw dropped.  He said that my left eye was exactly the same as what he thought, but the prescription they had given me for my right was way off.  He then checked it again and came to the same conclusion.  He insisted I'd have to get new glasses too, and I explained to him that they were fine.  Dubious, he made me put them on this contraption that figures out a lens's prescription.  Sure enough, my glasses prescription matched the contact lens prescription he was about to give me.  The only thing that didn't match was the prescription I had been given a year ago.

 

SF residents- that's the Site for Sore Eyes on Sansome.