I See ... Part deux

I admit it. I was wrong about the eye guy. Remember I told you how much I hate going to see him and how bad it is? Well. IT WAS TEN TIMES WORSE THAN I REMEMBERED! Who gives these people license to practice? Attila The Hun School of Optometry?

The doctor was the last one in the room and he was nuttin compared to the winch that he sent in ahead of him. She does his dirty work. All he did was shine some bright lights in my eyes that have the approximate candlepower of the sun X 10. And then he asked me to read an eye chart. Eye chart? All I could see was the fiery pits of hell. So he let me wait a minute. How kind. And then he told me not to worry about all of the horrible things the lady that works for him told me ... things that she thought were going on in my head even now. She was "probably" wrong.

What a real sweet heart she was. When she came in I thought, "Great! I got a nice one! She looks happy and appears to like working here." The she opened her little pouch of utensils, which included multiple hot pokers, pruning shears, a blender and a car battery. But those were simply a diversion. Her secret weapon was her first tool. It looked for all the world like a permanent marking pen with a round glass tip. She began moving it sslloowwllyy toward my right eye and told me "DON'T YOU BLINK EVEN ONCE" and 'IT'S GOING TO LOOK LIKE WATER IS SPLASHING IN YOUR EYE." Where in the name of all that is pure and good did she get that idea? She put that thing on my eye and I blinked. She told me to stop it. She put it on my eye again. I blinked again. So she went for the drops that some textbook once upon a time told her would deaden my eyes sense of touch. HAHAHAHAHAwrong. She handed me a Kleenex and told me to wipe my eyes. I was crying yellow. YELLOW! For all I know I was actually peeing out my eyeballs. Then she put her magic marker back in my eye and began rolling it around. (Note: Yellow eye drops do nothing to ease the sense of touch. Lies. All lies.) She rolled it around for about thirty of the longest seconds of my life. And she yelled if I even blinked my other eye. Holy smokes, woman! She said, "blinking one puts pressure on the other." Well, yeah Einstein. So she does the right eye again. I was silently threatening my eyes with a marathon of "Oprah" reruns if they blinked even once. Then she takes her pent-up rage out on my left eye. Guess what! The little pen from H-E-double hockey sticks beeped before five seconds had passed. (It beeps when it has figured out how much pressure is in your eye. My right eye had taken over thirty seconds.) She said, "no way." So she tried it again. BEEP! Attempt number three. Same thing. She put her pen down and scowled at me telling me that the pressure in my left eye was really high.

Oh. I'm sorry. Next time I promise to unscrew the cap on the valve and let some of the steam off before I come in. I didn't mean to ruin her day. She stood up and actually looked disappointed that she couldn't think of anything else to do to me. So she said the doctor would be in any minute (translation: before the new moon rises in the eastern sky) and that I should just relax.

Relax. Great plan. I tried to shove a chair under door handle but it was on wheels. I was in the process of building a barricade with office furniture when "The Big Guy" came in.

Well, the doctor told me my vision was screwed up in my left eye and charged me my co-pay, handed me my prescription for a new left lens in my glasses and told me to come back in a year. I stopped him. I told him that when I close my eyes late in the afternoon or evening and then open them (like after a short nap) that everything is like ... pale. Like the color has gone to never never land. I told him that my vision is nearly normal until mid-afternoon and that as I start to get tired it deteriorates. He looked me in the eye (the right one) and said, "I don't know of anything that would cause that. Have you been checked for diabetes?

Diabetes? In my eye? I eat sugar. I don't eat sugar. Either way. No difference. MY EYE IS SCREWY. It's my EYE MY EYE MY EYE. The one crying yellow! AAARRRGGGHHH.

Aww, never mind. I went to Lens Crafters and gave them something over $250 and they told me my two new lenses (one for my regular glasses and one for my ultra-cool prescription "look at me because I'm together and totally what's happening" sun glasses) would be ready in around a week. Huh? When did their advertising campaign begin saying, "Lens Crafters! New glasses in about a week??????"

Ok, I'm done. Nothing more about opthowhatevers. My head hurts. My eyes burn. The laptop screen is waving good night. I'm waving back.

Good night, Tess.

Good night, Ron.