As promised, today's post is devoted to my adventures Monday afternoon at the eye doctor, an installment in a special series about aging young women in America. :0 I wrote about my appointment last year, and I thought it would be fun to make this a yearly event since it seems to bring out the humorous part of something that we all dread but that *will* happen to all of us - noticing the physical effects of getting older. Last year, I left feeling like I may need a walker to get out to my car, it was so depressing, and I'm pleased to report that this year went much better. Let us discuss!
I arrived just as the snowstorm was kicking up, and so I was feeling kind of rushed and punchy. A good start, no?! I wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible so that I could get home. I rushed through my paperwork and anxiously read my Kindle while I waited to be called back, already detailing in my mind how I would refuse the eye drops this time since I do want to be able to drive home, and you know, arrive in one piece.
I'm called back and I hurriedly sit down for the initial "stuff." Review of personal medical history, reading of chart. I do as best I can, but I do have one very weak eye due to a birth defect in my macula muscle, hence my yearly forays to the ophthalmologist.
"How old are you?"
"Really? You don't look 38."
I LOVE THIS NURSE. I may bring her a gift next year. I may knit her something.
That done, the nurse turns to me:
"This doctor doesn't do drops, so we don't have to worry about those."
"But now it's time for the pressure gauge."
I *can't stand* the pressure gauge, wherein you're supposed to "relax" while a steel instrument is shoved up against your eyeball, but I did what I could.
"Ok, let's move over here for the clicker test."
A test? I perk up. I am an overachiever and aim to do well on any and all tests.
"Ok, You'll need to look through here, and we'll test your right eye, then the left. Every time you see a squiggle move on the screen you press this clicker."
A clicker? I have power. This gets better and better.
*squiggle moves across screen*
"Was that another one? I think..."
I was a little bit of an eager beaver, but I gave that clicker a workout and I'm pretty sure I got 100% correct.
"Here's the doctor. He'll take it from here."
We then move on to the...
"Is A clearer, or B? A? Ok. A...or C? About the same? Hum. C or...D? Anything? They can't be the same, let's look again. Here's C...Then D!"
...part of the exam.
"Well, your prescription went up a bit, but not bad. Your vision is 20/20 in your right eye, and 20/30 in the left."
Now see? There was no Doomsday predictions of failing vision and buzzards coming to peck my eyeballs out the instant I turn 40. I like this guy.
I'm ushered to an optician named Sandy to procure my new glasses. Sandy is clearly worried about the storm outside and isn't in too great of a mood, but I give her a pass because I too am worried about the storm.
"Do you want bifocal lenses or just reading ones?"
"Oh." Thankfully the "B" word had gone as yet unmentioned. "Well, can you tell me about the bifocals?"
I joke about them, but someday I really will need them. I can't keep taking my glasses off to segue between my computer screen and a human face forever. She spends about 10 minutes telling me minutiae about bifocals lenses.
"Ok, thanks. I'm not ready. Let's just do reading."
Sandy does not look amused.
"All right. The frames covered by your insurance are over there on that rack."
I head over, thrilled that I can actually SEE the frames to choose this year, and immediately hone in on two that are identical aside from the color. I really like the shape and thickness. One pair is brown with blue on the side, and the other pair is black with pink. I model both for Sandy.
"I really like this pair, but what about...this one? You know, A, or...B!"
Sandy does not seem to think that this is nearly as funny as I do, but she does gamely play along and examines both frames on my face. She says she likes both of them.
I go back and forth in the mirror while Sandy's son texts her with foreboding highway closures. Finally, I pick one.
"Ok! These ones!"
"Ok great. They'll be ready in 2 weeks."
Clearly, Sandy is ready to move on from my visit. And I'll unveil my new frames, and their color, two weeks hence!
So, this year was better. I didn't leave nearly as traumatized and needing liquor the way I did last year. I will seek out this particular ophthalmologist again. Anybody else have adventures in aging? Leave me a comment!
All right, tomorrow I have a book review to post on an Amish compilation I read over the holiday break. It was *lovely* and fun, and if you are at all interested in Amish fiction or in trying it, please do check back tomorrow!