slow news day
So...uh...it was raining really bad today. It has been off an on for the past week and a half. Sunday, it was coming down in sheets. There's something about shitty weather that I find comforting--like it's the excuse I was looking for to stay inside. It also makes me point out the obvious; as my roommate was lugging his band equipment into his car and running back into the house with the sounds of rain raging outside, I still felt the need to wax rhetorically, "It's really raining, huh?" I can be so eloquent sometimes. I suppose that Pulitzer should be arriving any time now...
I was proofing an ad for a local optometrist, which reminded me that it's been forever since I'd been to the eye doctor. The last time I went was a pretty harrowing experience as I was told that my vision had gotten so bad in the time since my last previous visit, that the doctor thought I might have something hokey going on with my eyes--like some kind of untreatable congenital defect that would render me blind. That wasn't the best news. He told me to come back in a year so they could check it out again. But then I had to fill the new perscription... and I needed a new pair of frames because the others were so uncomfortable... and I didn't have insurance ...and $400 plus on my credit card later, I decided that if my eyes were going to hell anyway, and there was nothing he could do about it, well, I might as well wait until I got insurance--because bad news is easier to take when it only costs $50.
My eyes aren't so bad that I couldn't read the number on the ad, so I called the eye doc up, asked if he took Blue Cross and made an appointment for next Tuesday. Though it seems to be the least intrusive type of medical exam, I still hate the optometrist--mostly because everytime I go, my vision is worse than the previous visit, and I've always been squeamish about my eyes; you have to hook me up in something out of Clockwork Orange to get me to sit still for eyedrops. Also, I don't like how the most important part of my treatment is really in my hands. Clearly, I'm incompetant or else I wouldn't be shelling out money for the optometrist's services; nevertheless, they slap that big old lens decoder mask on and ask "which is better, this one, or this one" and do the lens-clicky thing and basically ask me to perscribe my own treatment. After about 20 minutes of that, I'm so confused I just want it to stop. I just can't deal with that many choices and be asked to commit. I'm just going to have to come back in a year to get something stronger and thicker and more expensive anyway. If only they handled perscribing pills in the same fashion.
I was proofing an ad for a local optometrist, which reminded me that it's been forever since I'd been to the eye doctor. The last time I went was a pretty harrowing experience as I was told that my vision had gotten so bad in the time since my last previous visit, that the doctor thought I might have something hokey going on with my eyes--like some kind of untreatable congenital defect that would render me blind. That wasn't the best news. He told me to come back in a year so they could check it out again. But then I had to fill the new perscription... and I needed a new pair of frames because the others were so uncomfortable... and I didn't have insurance ...and $400 plus on my credit card later, I decided that if my eyes were going to hell anyway, and there was nothing he could do about it, well, I might as well wait until I got insurance--because bad news is easier to take when it only costs $50.
My eyes aren't so bad that I couldn't read the number on the ad, so I called the eye doc up, asked if he took Blue Cross and made an appointment for next Tuesday. Though it seems to be the least intrusive type of medical exam, I still hate the optometrist--mostly because everytime I go, my vision is worse than the previous visit, and I've always been squeamish about my eyes; you have to hook me up in something out of Clockwork Orange to get me to sit still for eyedrops. Also, I don't like how the most important part of my treatment is really in my hands. Clearly, I'm incompetant or else I wouldn't be shelling out money for the optometrist's services; nevertheless, they slap that big old lens decoder mask on and ask "which is better, this one, or this one" and do the lens-clicky thing and basically ask me to perscribe my own treatment. After about 20 minutes of that, I'm so confused I just want it to stop. I just can't deal with that many choices and be asked to commit. I'm just going to have to come back in a year to get something stronger and thicker and more expensive anyway. If only they handled perscribing pills in the same fashion.
6 comments:
The last time I went was because I had a splinter stuck in my eyeball. It was hell to blink.
He yanked it.
Dude, it's an eye doctor. Where's the commitment? You only have to visit one day out of the year! Even I can manage that one.
You're so lucky you never had to sit for that medieval torture device-- with the blue light on the end-- that they used to use to check eye pressure. For glaucoma. Because it runs in my family. And I had to go through that every year. Since I was 8. Did I mention that it once got caught under my lid for a second because I blinked at the wrong time? I still have nightmares about that.
Now it's just a puff of air. Pfft!
at least you're not going blind.
psssh...
bottle rocket: i'd ask how you got that splinter, but i'm sure you'd tell me, and i'm sure i don't want to know.
But then you'd get a seeing eye dog. With a harness. You know you want one.
Lmfao...thankgod you were born a male..do you know what its like being female and having choices?? Ha do ya?
So i guess contact lenses are outta the question?
Heyyyyyyyy we can all pitch in and get you one of those little monkeys and an organ grinder you can stand on the corner with your seeing eyedog and collect money!!
i've always wanted a monkey.
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