Boy Three made his first trip to the optician today. He’s only three and a half but the staff at nursery suggested it would be a good idea. He’s a clumsy little chap, but I’d put it down to his habit of hurtling everywhere at top speed.
But stopping to consider it, Boy Two wears specs and had a lazy eye (amblyopia), it wouldn’t be surprising. Boy Two’s condition was picked up at the routine pre-school eye test.
Our lovely optician had to use drops (dilating juice) to see what was going on properly and she is going to refer him to the hospital opthamologist. Boy Three is utterly thrilled by this because he is desperate to have glasses like his big brother.
I’m less thrilled. I mean, I’m pleased that if he has got something, which we don’t know yet, then it’s been spotted early. But it’s funny how the first imperfection in your immaculate child makes your heart sink ever so slightly.
Yes, yes, I know, but I’m just saying it how it feels. With Boy One it was asthma, Boy Two his eyes and, now, maybe, Boy Three. A later, more challenging diagnosis (in our case Asperger’s) was difficult, but not the same as the feeling of first blemish.