It's Hell Getting Old

Recently I kept my appointment with an oculu-plastic surgeon. Dr. Sindt, my optometrist, referred me to him because my eyelids are drooping and she thought my droopy eyelids might occlude my vision. She pressed her hand on my forehead and told me to relax my muscles. She explained to me that I was using my forehead muscles to lift my eyelids. She tried to get me to quit frowning with the effort. She referred me to an oculo-plastic surgeon.

When I met with Dr. Keith Carter, the chair of the oculo-plastic department at University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics, he asked, "What do you want me to do for you?" He looked skeptical.

Staff had already taken photos of my eyelids taped up and not taped up and done vision tests with my eyelids down and taped up. I knew I'd done better on the vision test with my eyelids taped up. Staff also took photos of my face.

Confused, I told Dr. Carter, “Dr. Sindt referred me to you.”

Obviously, I didn’t just show up for no reason. I didn’t even know that UIHC had an oculo-plastic department until I was referred there.

Dr. Carter explained to me that my insurance company would laugh at the photos taken of my face.

“I’ve gone round and round with them,” he said, by way of explaining that he knew what they would accept as really droopy eyelids and what they wouldn’t accept.

He invited a few staff members into the exam room to look at me.

“Tell them how old you are,” he said.

“I’m 67,” I said. “I’ll be 68 next month.”

They expressed surprise.

I asked when I should come back.

“Get some wrinkles first,” he said.

He explained, “Your eyelids are fine. Your forehead is falling down."

Trying to absorb that information was a struggle.

“I’ve got wrinkles,” I said resentfully to the mirror the next day as I peered at my tired, wrinkly eyelids. “You just can’t see them.”

I was talking to Dr. Carter.