My eye test at 50: the midlife health scare I didn’t see coming

I braced myself for today’s eye test because turning 50 has come with a steady stream of “system updates” and a flurry of NHS appointments. Breast screening, bowel screening, blood tests, the lot. It can feel as though your body’s MOT is suddenly due all at once.

But this time, it was my eyesight I was worried about.

I don’t usually blog about an eye test, but when your eyes start doing strange things, it’s surprisingly easy for your imagination to get there before the optician does.

A twitch here, pain or just a strange sensation you can’t quite explain. Before long, you’re wondering whether it’s something serious, particularly when you’re 50 and suddenly much more aware of everything your body is doing.

I’d already learned this lesson the hard way after my Botox episode earlier this year. Every twitch and ache became evidence that I’d done something dreadful to myself. So when my eye started causing problems, I found myself doing it again.

The question was whether something really was wrong with my eyesight, or whether my brain had just filled in the blanks before I had the facts.

Read more about my Botox disaster here if you want to!

With a family history of glaucoma and some distinctly unpleasant eye symptoms, I wanted to know whether my eyesight was actually changing or whether something else was causing the issue. More importantly, I wanted to stop guessing and find out.

The truth is, I didn’t go into that appointment feeling calm. Over the previous few months, I’d had a run of eye symptoms that sent my imagination straight to the worst-case scenario.

There was the throbbing pain behind my eye. Then the sharp, sudden shooting pain that felt like someone was jabbing a hot poker straight into my eyeball. My left eye started twitching, often when I was on a call. Sometimes it stopped me mid-sentence and had me apologising while I rubbed my eye. Other times, the nausea was so unpleasant that all I wanted to do was lie down in a dark room.

With my family history, I found it difficult to dismiss any of it. My dad lives with glaucoma and lost the sight in one eye after a detached retina and a disastrous surgery. So when my own symptoms started, I wasn’t naturally thinking, “Probably dry eyes and too much screen time.” My mind went somewhere much darker.

And then there was the Botox.

After my self-inflicted attempt to celebrate turning 50 earlier this year, I’d started blaming every twitch and ache on that appointment. Had I irritated a nerve? Had I somehow damaged something? I took painkillers, squinted into mirrors and covered my eye with my palm after calls, looking for clues that probably weren’t there.

I had a perfectly reasonable question about my eyesight, but my brain had already started writing the answer.

The optician was clear. My eyesight itself was fine, but my eyes were very dry, and I wasn’t taking enough breaks from my screen. She said the combination of hormones, screens, stress and perimenopause can make dry-eye symptoms particularly noticeable at this stage of life.

Suddenly, the stabbing pain, twitching and throbbing had a much less frightening explanation. Even the nausea, which had sent my imagination into overdrive, no longer felt like evidence of something sinister. She prescribed Hycosan “intense” eye drops, the stronger drops, because the ones I’d been relying on weren’t doing much.

And then came the bit I had been waiting for: there were no warning signs of glaucoma and no retinal problems. My eyesight wasn’t quietly disappearing. I had been looking for a frightening explanation when the answer was much more ordinary.

For once, my body wasn’t presenting me with a catastrophe. It was just asking for a bit more care.

What I’m beginning to understand is that midlife can make ordinary problems feel much more dramatic.

My eyesight was good. My eyes, however, were struggling, dryness, stress and hormonal changes can all affect how comfortable your eyes feel, and I hadn’t been paying enough attention to any of them. I had been treating each symptom as a clue to something serious, rather than stepping back and asking what my eyes might actually need.

The answer turned out to be rather less dramatic: better eye care, the right drops and a bit more attention to what my body was telling me. That doesn’t mean I should ignore symptoms or assume every midlife health scare is harmless. Getting checked was what gave me the answer.

The lesson for me wasn’t to worry less. It was to check first, then worry.

What genuinely lifted my spirits was the visual field test, the one where you press a button every time a little grey light flashes. I hit every single one. Every. Single. One. Cyrus would have been proud. It felt more like one of his Roblox games, only with an eye patch, making me look like Jack Sparrow as I played.

While my memory hasn’t been that great lately, this was a reminder that not everything fades with age. Some things do stay reliable.

As we age, the lens inside the eye stiffens and makes focusing up close harder. That’s presbyopia. Everyone gets it. Perimenopause affects tear production and eye comfort, which doesn’t help. Dryness makes everything feel more dramatic than it is. The optometrist told me nearly everyone needs reading help by their mid-40s. If anything, my +1.25 suggests my eyes are ageing gracefully.

Here’s what genuinely helps me stay on top of things.

• Proper lighting. Menus are not shrinking, however much it feels like they are.
• Dry eye care. Warm compresses and the right drops work wonders.
• Screen breaks. Apparently four or more are essential per day for me.
• Correct-strength readers. Glasses need to be right.
• Regular tests. An annual check for someone over 40 whose father has glaucoma is free on the NHS.

Good vision supports confidence and how well I can work in what I do. As someone who also loves writing, I rely on clear eyesight more than I realised. Squinting is not the look I’m aiming for.

For all the sleepless nights I’ve spent blaming that appointment back in May, it turns out Botox wasn’t the culprit in this story. My eyes aren’t damaged. Nothing has shifted or collapsed. I simply need to look after them, hydrate them and give them more TLC with regular breaks from the glow of a screen.

In theory, it sounds simple. In reality, when you work, blog, parent and run half your life through a phone, it feels like telling a midlife woman to relax more. Lovely idea, but it’s easier said than done. It’s a relief to know the answer is practical, not permanent though. And honestly, that feels like a huge weight has been lifted.

At 50, juggling family life, perimenopause and the daily effort to feel strong, this feels like a win. And in midlife, we have to celebrate the wins, no matter how small they are.

One question I’m left with: how many of us spend more time worrying about what might be wrong with our bodies than actually getting them checked?