Before Ian was set up to have his distance vision checked, Dr. Arenos checked his color vision. He showed him a page in a book and asked Ian to tell him what he saw. Ian said, "6." Dr. Arenos looked at the page himself, and then said, "WHAT do you see?" to which Ian replied, "6?" Dr. Arenos then looked at me and said, "Any issues with color vision in your family?"
An understatement. I have color issues along with my father, various cousins on my father's side (including a cousin who is completely color blind), two of my mother's brothers, and various cousins on my mother's side.
Dr. Arenos was thrilled! Well, maybe that's not quite the right word for it, but when he did my eye exam, he confirmed that in the 23 years he has been a practicing optometrist, I am the 18th woman he has met who is color deficient. He said that color deficiencies have always fascinated him.
He explained that true color blindness is a very rare, and very serious, condition. Most people who are called "color blind" are, in fact, varying degrees of color deficient. Ian has trouble differentiating between greens. I have trouble with greens, blues and purples. My father has trouble with greens and blues. (For years my father referred to his "green suit". My mother insisted it was actually blue.)
Dr. Arenos also explained that the 'color blind gene', for lack of a better descriptive, is carried on the X chromosome. He said what you get is a crap shoot, really. I was just unlucky enough to get the gene from both my color deficient father and my color deficient gene-carrying mother. He also said my brother is actually very, very lucky to see color, as the odds were as against him seeing color as they were against me being color deficient. It is rare, but it happens. That made me think of something else in our family relating to our eyes.
Every single Tabor boy, going back from my generation, has blue eyes. Every single Tabor girl has brown eyes. My father and his brother? Blue eyes. My two paternal aunts? Brown eyes. My grandfather Norman and his brother, Vincent? Blue eyes. Their sister, Mae? Brown eyes. My great-grandfather Charles? Blue eyes. And so far, I have been able to ascertain that two of Charles' four sisters had brown eyes. Even my sister has brown eyes.
My brother, however? Brown eyes. And mine are blue. Weird coincidence.
So, anyway, the good news is...well, I'm not really sure. The bad news is, in additional to having a degree of color deficiency, Ian now needs glasses. And I need new ones, too.
Kiss $600 good-bye.
