A couple weeks ago I found myself in the office of an ophthalmologist I hadn’t been to before.
“Alright, Jessica, I need you to lean forward, rest your chin here, and press your forehead against this brace,” she said as she turned off the lights. “Now tell me, which one of these is better, one or two?” She continued, “one or two?”
“One,” I answered.
“Okay, now three or four? Three or four?”
“Three?” I said, less confident.
I doubt myself sometimes when answering these questions. The stakes feel so high. Like if I somehow pick the wrong number, I’ll end up with contact lenses that make my vision worse, not better.