Evangelina’s new vision
Evangelina
Carrezosa is 76 years old. She has eight children, 20 grandchildren, and
five great-grandchildren. She has lived in rural Huatabampo, in Mexico’s
Sonora state, for 30 years. She has never seen an eye doctor—until today.
Today, the Kiwanis Club of Klamath Falls, Oregon, and
Kiwanis Club of Navojoa, Mexico, and a host of volunteers
from near, far, and in between, have set up an optometry clinic.
“A friend told me about the clinic, and I came with her,” she says through
an interpreter.
Evangelina’s journey through the Kiwanis optometry clinic begins at 6
a.m., when she awakes and walks to the clinic site, an elementary school.
At 8 a.m., workers from Desarrollo Integral de la Familia (DIF),
a government social services agency, register her and hand her a slip
of paper. She sits down to wait.
A bus pulls up at 10 a.m., and Kiwanians and other volunteers spill out.
Within an hour, they have established stations throughout the school grounds,
and patients begin moving through the clinic.
It’s noon when Evangelina’s turn comes, and she is guided into the first
station: visual acuity. A translator instructs her to cover one eye and
read the smallest line possible on the chart. Another woman, about Evangelina’s
age, cannot read and is taken to a chart with shapes to name instead.
Volunteers make a note on Evangelina’s paper, and she is escorted to the
next station’s line.
Soon, she is taken into the room where Klamath Falls Kiwanian Bob Tucker
runs an autorefractor, a special device that will read her eyes and assist
in an accurate diagnosis of her prescription needs. She does not care
that Bob is a Kiwanian and the machine he uses is a Rotary donation. She
cares only that Bob is careful and that the machine does not hurt. After
making a few calculated beeps, the autorefractor spits out an analysis,
which Bob staples to her paper.
In
the next station, she meets her first optometrist, Greg Moloney of Ottawa,
Ontario. It is dark and cool in the converted classroom. The doctor asks
her questions through a translator, an English teacher from Navojoa. He
places a foreopter before her eyes and asks which lenses give better clarity.
He shines a light into her eyes. He asks more questions. He writes an
eyeglass prescription on Evangelina’s paper and tells her bifocals will
help her.
Her last wait is outside the school’s biblioteca. Inside, among
the library’s computers, volunteers scurry and search for prescriptions
as Evangelina and her friend rest on metal folding chairs. She is summoned
inside where Klamath Falls Kiwanian Annette Brieske takes her paper. It
takes time to find a good match, because, like most prescriptions, each
eye requires a different strength. And, since there is no on-site lab,
Annette must sift through boxes of glasses, hoping to find something that
will help Evangelina.
Annette
returns—with a pair of glasses and a translator. She explains to Evangelina
how the glasses work: She must look through the top portion to see distant
objects and through the bottom portion when she is reading or sewing.
Annette explains it will take time to get used to the new glasses, and
she helps Evangelina place them before her eyes.
Finally, Evangelina looks through her new lenses, and, for the first
time in many years, she sees the world clearly.
“I’m happy,” she says. “Now, I can read to my grandchildren.”
To find out more about the Klamath Falls-Navojoa Kiwanis optometry
clinic, read the October 2005 issue of Kiwanis magazine.
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