If you can't see the zombies, they can still see you.

Teddy Roosevelt liked to go places.  He liked to go to strange, exotic, uncivilized places, where there weren’t any roads and which few, if any, other humans had seen.  A book I once read told several stories about his travels (including the time he became so ill that he told his companions to leave him behind), but what stuck with me the most was the story about his glasses. 

Teddy Roosevelt wore glasses.  Before he went on one of his excursions, far from any civilized place, he would carefully wrap and pack several extra pairs.  Just in case. 

 

It’s often occurred to me that extra pairs of glasses should be a standard addition to one’s zombie apocalypse bug-out bag.  If you need corrective lenses, you’ll still need them after civilization falls.  Civilization won’t be making any more of them, and while you may be able to scavenge more, how much do you want to rely on finding what you need? 

 

What if bug-out time comes during a shower, while you’re not wearing them?  Well, okay, bad example.  If the apocalypse hits while you’re dripping shampoo onto the bathroom tiles, you’ll have more obstacles to overcome than just eyesight.  And hey, maybe you’re wearing your contact lenses! 

 

Or would that be worse?  Maybe not, if you’re wearing the kind you can sleep in.  Those will last for... how long?  A month?  And if you’re able to pack your extra pairs, and your supplies – at least one lens case, a bottle of solution – that could keep you for a good long while.   

 

But sooner or later, you’ll have to take your contacts out.  I think we can all agree: the unpredictability of an apocalyptic scenario creates a need for constant preparedness.  No, we can’t wait for you to put your contact lenses in, we have to leave now. 

 

So.  Glasses.  Glasses, which can fall off, or at least fall askew.  Which get dirty.  Which break.  Which, over time, become inadequate.   

 

And yes, as I mentioned earlier, we can scavenge.  Still.  Glasses equals a generally lower level of readiness.  A lower level of survivability. 

 

Side note: if a person is blind, is the zombie that person becomes also blind?  I’m thinking yes.  So an extremely nearsighted person would become an extremely nearsighted zombie.  I sense humor there.  Benny the nearsighted zombie.  Keeps shambling up to trees, thinking they’re food. 

 

Dibs on the screenplay.  End side note. 

 

Believe it or not, I’ve put a lot of thought into the effect of bad eyesight on zombie apocalypse scenarios.  Nobody ever talks about that.  Food, yes.  Guns, of course.  Clothing, maybe.  Vehicles.  Shelter.  These are the topics we automatically turn to when discussing the zombie apocalypse.  But, wow, you’ve got to be able to see.  And for me, that’s always been a concern. 

 

I’ve worn glasses since I was five years old.  I started wearing contact lenses as a teenager.  By the time I turned 40, the lenses in my glasses were so thick they became uncomfortable to wear for more than a few hours at a time.  

 

And then I developed cataracts.  My eyesight became so bad even corrective lenses didn’t do the trick, and it was only going to get worse from there. 

 

What incredibly good luck! 

 

As regular readers of this blog (waves at self in mirror) know: I recently underwent cataract surgery.  Two eyes, two surgeries, two weeks apart.  I didn’t notice any horrible scarring on my doctor’s face, but maybe he was wearing some sort of mask. 

 

And now, lo and behold, I can see.  I can read the alarm clock when I roll over at night!  If you’ve never needed glasses, you have no idea what a shock that was.  Rolling over, looking at the clock, and being able to read it.   

 

For a moment, I thought I’d forgotten to take my contacts out.  But no!  I go to sleep, I wake up, and I can see! 

 

Sure, I have to use my reading glasses more now.  The manmade lenses still don’t have quite the flexibility of the Godmade ones.  And I’m still hoping for upgrades in the future.  Infrared, telescope, range finding.  That sort of thing. 

 

Still.  Bottom line: I’ve scratched that particular concern off the list of Things To Worry About, Zombie Apocalypse Edition.  My odds of surviving the zombie apocalypse have gone from Very Nearly Zero to Very Nearly Zero, But With Much Sharper Clarity.   

 

Um.  That may not be the selling point I was going for.