In a charming candle lit dining room in Montreal, efficient waiters are delivering seafood platters one after the other.  Several tables are laid out in close proximity. As I contemplate my options, I lean into the diner next to me.  “Excuse me,” I ask, ” what’s that type of shellfish on your platter?” With crinkled brow, a fresh faced ingenue leans over and says, giggling, “Um, that’s the hot sauce bottle!” This embarrassing incident marked the beginning of a journey involving cataracts and other painful corrections. Eyesight & Epiphany It wasn’t the first or the last time I’d end up red faced about my impaired vision. Or feel like a…