Six months ago, my eye doctor announced that I would be taking a field vision test in August. Six months is the ideal time frame for me to whip myself into a high state of anxiety about a trip to the doctor – any doctor.
Most of my worry came from my ignorance regarding what exactly a field vision test might be. I didn’t have the courage to ask the doctor or the energy to consult the Internet, so my lack of knowledge on the subject underpinned my jittery nerves.
Would I be driven out to a field south of the city and told to count the number of corn stalks I could see in a sixty-second period? Would I be shown aerial photos of a number of different fields and commanded to identify which one was the sharpest?
So many possibilities, so many dangers. Failure to pass the field vision test could obviously lead to my eyeballs being removed and used as doorstops.
I couldn’t even share my concern with anyone else as there was nobody I knew who had ever taken a field vision test.
Tuesday, the night before the test, I felt like Tom Dooley awaiting to ascend the scaffold the next day. I tossed and turned. Slept very little. And showed up wearily on time for the test.
At the eye clinic, I was led into a room with all sorts of fancy hardware. I was seated in a chair and a pirate’s eyepatch was installed over my left eye. I rested my chin on a metal chinrest and the room went dark. I was handed a little joystick and told to press a button every time I saw a little burst of light. Those bursts appeared randomly all over the screen.
I nailed it.
The eyepatch was switched to my left eye and the process repeated. But this time, due I suppose to my poor night’s sleep, I nodded off three times in the middle of the test. It is hard to identify brief flashing lights on a screen when you are asleep. To all future test takers, I would recommend drinking three energy drinks in a row before grabbing that joystick.
I mentioned to the doctor that I had slipped into unconsciousness three times during the test but he seemed unconcerned. Said I had passed with flying colours.
Which now has me worrying at the value of a test which you can pass while sound asleep.
All I know is I am getting new glasses. Whether I will be able to see a flea on a buffalo’s back at 500 paces or not able to see the end of my nose, I have no idea.
I just hope I can still count the corn stalks in the fields south of the city as this is a practice that has always brought me peace.
©2018 Jim Hagarty
