I never imagine invoking HBO’s popular series, Sex and the City, in a post about binocular vision therapy. But, alas, I am.

The communication gap that exists between those of us on the road to 3D and those who take 3D for granted is vast, and as I have painstakingly have realized, insurmountable for most people I talk to on the other side.

This reminds me of the “A Woman’s Right to Shoes” episode where Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker) laments that as a single woman without children, she never gets any gifts or cards to celebrate moments in her life, unlike her married friends with kids who get bridal shower, wedding and baby shower presents. “You don’t get a Hallmark card that says, ‘Congratulations for not marrying the wrong man’ “. (The only You Tube clip I could find had some expletive words in the dialogue that may be shunned on this site so I prefer not to post. But you can find the episode online broken up into three parts. It consists of Bradshaw’s Manolo Blahnik shoes being stolen.)

There are no parties, Hallmark cards, or generally recognized moments of congratulations for when we stare at toilet paper because we suddenly find the texture interesting. There are no “let’s admire flying dust particles in the sunlight” summer barbecues.  How about a hike for vision therapy patients who will spend more time staring at trees and rocking back and forth underneath trees like Rabbis at the Wailing Wall, except we’ll have our heads pointing upwards instead of in books. Or the “now I know why people get Botox. I can see more wrinkles on people’s faces” aha moment!

I am not bitter or self pitying when I write this. I am simply expressing how my daily “wonders” and hidden delights of staring at walls or riding the bus alone to look at moving trees makes it difficult for me to connect with people around me not doing VT because they can’t understand my world.

Recently, a friend asked me for help booking her a ticket to Naples, Italy to visit her new amore italiano. She told me about the Napolitan chef and I saw his photos of Facebook. I wanted to share what was exciting about my life, that I can now see better in the shower without my glasses and that I can see things sharper. But how can “I see mildew in the shower clearer than ever” compare with “gorgeous love Italian-style”? It can’t. So I kept my mildew to myself.

In March 2011, I wrote an invitation to a party in verse. The party is for my “graduation from VT”. I hoped I could do it this summer so I set the invitation in the rose garden in San Jose, California. I do want to celebrate once I am finally done and in stereo but I wonder if I can truly rejoice with others over something they can’t fathom. The party may consist of just me staring at roses. I’ll skip the shower mildew:)


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