Growing Up in Lancaster County (7 page)

Mom had made an appointment for Rachel to see the eye doctor today. She’d hired their English neighbor, Susan Johnson, to take them to Lancaster for the appointment. Susan had picked them up as soon as Rachel got home from school. Rachel wished she could be anywhere but here. Even doing chores would be better than getting her eyes examined.

“Don’t look so
naerfich
[nervous].” Mom gently squeezed Rachel’s arm. “The doctor’s just going to look at your eyes.”

“And probably make me wear glasses,” Rachel mumbled.

“We won’t know that until after the examination. Besides, wearing glasses isn’t so bad.” Mom pushed her glasses onto the bridge of her nose. “Without my glasses I wouldn’t be able to see nearly as well. Grandma Yoder wears glasses, too,” she added with a smile. “And Grandpa Schrock needs glasses for reading.”

“I know that, but no one at school wears glasses. If the doctor says I have to wear them, I’ll be the only scholar with glasses.” Rachel swallowed hard. “Wearing glasses would make me stick out like a sore thumb!”

“You won’t stick out like a sore thumb.” Mom patted Rachel’s knee. “Even if no one else wears glasses now, it doesn’t mean they never will.”

Rachel leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. She tried to imagine how some of her friends would look with glasses. Would they wear the metal-framed kind like Mom, Grandma Yoder, and Grandpa Schrock wore; or would they wear colored plastic frames like she’d seen on other folks? She almost giggled when she pictured Orlie wearing a pair of glasses with thick lenses that made him look like a frog.

Audra’s brother, Brian, had a round face, so if he wore glasses, he might look like a pumpkin. Phoebe Byler’s nose was thin, and she had small, beady eyes, so if she wore glasses she’d probably look like a bird.

Mom nudged Rachel’s arm. “We’re here!”

Rachel’s eyes popped open. The butterflies in her stomach started zipping again.

Rachel and Mom sat in the doctor’s waiting room. Mom read a magazine. Rachel took deep breaths and tried to relax. It was easy for Mom to say there was nothing to be nervous about; she wasn’t the one getting her eyes examined today. She wasn’t the one who might get teased if she wore glasses at school, either.

A middle-aged woman with short red hair stepped up to Rachel. “My name is Mrs. Dodge, and I’m the doctor’s assistant. Will you please come with me?”

Rachel stood and wiped her sweaty palms on her dress. “Will you come with me?” she asked Mom.

Mom nodded. “Of course.”

Rachel and Mom followed Mrs. Dodge into another room. She motioned to a chair that looked similar to the one Rachel sat in the last time she’d gone to the dentist—only this chair had a strange-looking machine in front of it.

Mrs. Dodge asked Rachel several questions: how old she was; had she ever worn glasses; was she having any trouble with her eyes; and had she ever had an eye exam. When she finished her questions, she looked at Rachel and said, “Now look straight ahead at the chart on the wall. Do you see some groups of letters?”

Rachel nodded. “I see them, but some are fuzzy.”

“That’s okay. Just read the smallest line that you’re able to see clearly.”

“The top line looks the clearest,” Rachel said.

“That’s fine. Please read the letters on that line.”

“F, E, L, O, P, Z, D.”

“Can you read the next line?”

“D…No, I think that’s an O.” Rachel squinted as she concentrated on each letter. “F…No, that’s an E. Well, maybe it is an F. I—I can’t really be sure.”

Mrs. Dodge plucked a bottle from the shelf across the room, and moved closer to Rachel. “Hold your head still. I’m going to put some drops in your eyes.”

Rachel flinched. “Wh–why do I need drops in my eyes?”

“The drops are to dilate your eyes,” Mrs. Dodge explained. “Dilating makes the pupils larger and helps the doctor see the backs of your eyes.”

“Why does he need to look at the backs of my eyes?” Rachel wanted to know.

“To see if there’s any swelling or disease.”

Rachel didn’t think her eyes were swollen, and she hoped they had no disease. “W–will the eyedrops hurt?” she asked shakily.

“They might sting a little, but the stinging sensation won’t last long.”

Mom took hold of Rachel’s hand. “It’s okay. Just relax.”

Rachel drew in a deep breath, leaned her head against the back of the chair, and tried not to blink.

Squirt. Squirt
. “There now; you did just fine,” Mrs. Dodge said. “The doctor will be in to see you soon.” She handed Rachel a tissue and scurried out of the room.

Rachel dabbed at her watery eyes. “What’s this for, Mom?” she asked, pointing to the big machine in front of her.

Mom sat in a chair near the door. “When the doctor comes in, he’ll have you look at the eye chart again, only this time you’ll be looking through the large lenses attached to the machine. He’ll also look at your eyes with a bright light.”

“Will the bright light hurt?”

“No Rachel.” Mom smiled. “Now please sit back and relax.”

Rachel closed her eyes and sighed, wishing the doctor would hurry. The longer she waited, the more nervous she became. She opened her eyes and fiddled with the strings on her kapp, knowing Mom would scold her if she bit a fingernail.

Finally, the door squeaked open. A tall man wearing metal-framed glasses entered the room. “Hello, Rachel. I’m Dr. Ben. I understand you’re having some trouble with your eyes.”

“Well, uh—some things look a little blurry lately, but I hope I won’t need to wear glasses.”

He touched the earpiece of his glasses then rubbed his chin. “Do you have something against glasses?”

She swallowed a couple of times. “Not really. I just think I’m too young to wear them.”

Dr. Ben winked at Mom. Then he sat on the stool near the front of the strange-looking machine. “Now let’s take a look at your eyes so I can see what’s going on.”

“W–will it hurt?”

“No Rachel, I’m just going to examine your eyes.” The doctor shined a bright light into Rachel’s eyes. It didn’t hurt, but it was hard to keep her eyes open.

Then Dr. Ben positioned the machine in front of Rachel’s face. “Now lean forward so your forehead is resting against the machine and your chin is on the chin rest.”

Rachel did as he asked. The exam included a lot more than she’d expected, but so far it had been easy enough.

“Do you see the eye chart through the lenses, Rachel?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll adjust the lenses,” Dr. Ben said. “I want you to let me know if you can see the letters any better.”
Click! Click!

“Oh, yes, they’re much clearer now,” she said as the letters came into focus.

Click! Click!
The doctor made a few more adjustments. “Is this better?”

“I—I think the first one was better.”

“How about this?” He changed the lenses a few more times, always asking Rachel which one was better. Finally, he pulled the machine away from her face.

“We’re all done.” He looked over at Mom and said, “Rachel’s eyes have a slight astigmatism.”

“Astigmatism,” Rachel repeated. “What’s that?”

“It’s when the front surface of the eye is shaped like an egg,” Dr. Ben explained.

Rachel frowned. She had no idea her eye looked like an egg.

“When a person has astigmatism, it can affect vision and distort shapes so letters and numbers that look similar are often confused.” Dr. Ben looked over at Mom again. “Rachel is also farsighted in one eye and nearsighted in the other.”

“What does farsighted and nearsighted mean?” Rachel asked.

“Farsighted is an eye condition that makes it hard for you to see things that are close. Nearsighted means you have a hard time seeing things that are far away.”

Tears pricked the backs of Rachel’s eyes as the doctor’s words sank in. Something
was
wrong with her eyes, and she
would
have to wear glasses. She’d probably never be able to see well without them.

Dr. Ben patted Rachel’s shoulder. “Once you get your glasses, you’ll be able to see everything much better.” He wrote something on a small notepad and handed it to Mom. “Here’s the prescription for Rachel’s new glasses.”

Mom nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Ben.”

Rachel swallowed. She wanted to see better, but she didn’t want glasses!

Dr. Ben motioned to the door. “You can go next door to the optical department and give them the prescription for Rachel’s glasses. Then she can pick out a nice pair of frames.”

The butterflies in Rachel’s stomach started zipping around again. The tears she’d been holding back flooded her eyes, making her vision even blurrier. “Are—are you sure I have to get glasses?”

He nodded. “But if you wear them all the time for the next few years, maybe your eyes will get stronger and you won’t have to wear them at all.”

Hope welled in Rachel’s chest. “Really?”

He nodded and handed her a pair of cardboard glasses with dark lenses. “The dilation will last for several hours, and your eyes will be sensitive to light, so put these on before you go outside.”

Rachel grimaced. She couldn’t get out of it; she would have to wear glasses. She just hoped it wouldn’t be forever.

“Do you want plastic frames or metal frames?” Mom asked when she and Rachel entered the optical shop.

Rachel shrugged.

“Let’s look at some plastic frames. I think those will look good on you.” Mom led Rachel to the wall where rows of glasses with plastic frames hung. Rachel could hardly tell how they looked because her eyes were blurrier than normal from the dilation.

“What do you think of these?” Mom asked, lifting a pair of glasses. “They’re a nice of shade of blue, and they’ll match your pretty eyes. What do you think, Rachel?”

“I—I guess they’ll be all right.” Rachel swallowed a couple of times and drew in a deep breath. She didn’t want to cry right here in the optical shop.

A short man with thinning brown hair stepped up to them. “May I help you?”

Mom handed him the prescription Dr. Ben had given her. “My daughter needs new glasses, and we think this pair would look nice.”

Rachel just stared at the floor.

“Let’s go over to the table so I can get some measurements and see how the glasses look on your face,” the man said.

Rachel flopped into a chair in front of the table. She didn’t care what color the glasses were or how well they looked on her face. She wished she could turn back the hands of time—back to when she could see everything clearly and didn’t need glasses.

Later that afternoon, Rachel sat on the porch swing thinking about her eye examination and about the frames Mom had picked for her.

In just one week I’ll have my new glasses, she thought. I hope I’ll like them. I hope no one at school will make fun of me
.

Rachel thought about what Mom had said about the frames.
I’ll bet Mom was only trying to make me feel better when she said the new glasses would match my eyes
. She pushed the swing back and forth and tried to relax.

Bzzz…bzzz
. Rachel recognized the sound. Even though she only saw a little blur, she knew a bee was buzzing near her head.

Bzzz…bzzz…bzzz
. She didn’t want to get stung, so she swatted at the bee.

“Ouch!” Rachel bumped her elbow on the back of the swing, and a tingling pain shot up her arm.

Bzzz…bzzz
. The pesky bee continued to buzz around her head.

Rachel jumped up, raced for the door, and stumbled over one of Mom’s flowerpots. “Trouble, trouble, trouble,” she muttered.

The back door swung open. “Oh Rachel, I was just coming to get you,” Mom said. “Supper’s almost ready, and the table needs to be set.”

Rachel hurried into the kitchen and slammed the door. At least she was away from that buzzing bee!

Mom motioned to the refrigerator. “After you put the dishes and silverware on the table, you can set out the iced tea. And could you also get the sour cream? It’s in a plastic bowl in the refrigerator.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“Oh, and when you’re done with that, please fill the sugar bowl. The sugar is in the cupboard.”

Rachel opened the silverware drawer and took out the knives, forks, and spoons. As she placed them on the table, she thought about making a game of it but wasn’t in the mood. When she finished setting the table, she went to the refrigerator and took out the iced tea and the container of sour cream. Then she filled the sugar bowl and had just set it on the table when Pap, Henry, Jacob, and Grandpa entered the kitchen.

“Mmm…something smells mighty good.” Grandpa combed his beard with his fingers and sniffed the air.

“I’ll bet Mom made meatloaf tonight,” Henry said. “I’d recognize that
wunderbaar
[wonderful] smell anywhere.”

“You’re right, Henry,” Mom said, smiling. “I made your favorite supper.”

Rachel frowned. It didn’t seem fair that Mom had fixed Henry’s favorite dish. Rachel was the one who’d had a rough day. Mom should have fixed her favorite meal—fried chicken, potato salad, biscuits with jam, and pickled beets.

“Supper’s on the table,” Mom said. “So, let’s sit down.”

Henry grinned and patted his stomach. “And we’ll eat till we’re full!”

“After we pray, of course,” Pap said, nodding.

Everyone took seats at the table, and all heads bowed for prayer.

“
Dear Lord
,” Rachel silently prayed, “
I don’t like the idea of wearing glasses, but I did like Dr. Ben; he seemed real nice. When I get my new glasses next week, help me get used to wearing them…. And please don’t let anyone at school make fun of me
.”

When Pap cleared his throat, Rachel opened her eyes and sipped her water.

Henry cut his baked potato in half and put a pat of butter in the center. “Would you pass me the sour cream, Rachel?”

Rachel handed the bowl to Henry. He spooned some onto his potato, took a big bite, and puckered his lips. “This isn’t sour cream; it’s whipping cream!” He frowned at Rachel. “Did you set the table?”

She nodded, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She’d obviously made a mistake.

“Why’d you put out whipping cream instead of sour cream?” Henry asked. “What were you thinking?”