wilbur had an eye doctor appointment yesterday. his first. he didn’t do so well on an eye exam at school end of last school year. after scheduling and rescheduling a visit with the eye doctor for him, yesterday was the day.
he was a trooper. he was polite and friendly. he provided quick answers for their questions. there were questions for me too.
have you noticed him squinting?
have you noticed him tilting or angling his head when he reads or watches tv?
has he complained about not being able to see?
has he complained about things appearing blurry?
was he a full-term baby?
um. uh. i don’t know. our children are adopted. (cue the sinking stomach, the worry about whether or not this will bother the kids, the sadness i feel because i don’t know because i didn’t birth him.)
oh. okay. is there any family history of this?
visually? i don’t know.
oh, yeah. okay, well, i’ll just write down ‘adopted, don’t know’.
and that’s it. ‘adopted, don’t know’ goes into the chart and the drops for dilation go into the eyes. and i hold a 7 year old on my lap and i support with my arm a sick 11 year old who needs to lean on me because she has a fever and her stomach hurts.
we move on with the unanswered questions and the aching hearts. friday we get wilbur fitted for glasses. turns out he’s nearsighted. and i wish he would have been my baby.