Saturday, January 26, 2008

Death by dilation

"Is it supposed to be so blurry?" I ask my eye doctor this morning after popping in a fresh pair of contacts he provided.

"Yes, it'll be that way a while longer until your pupils go back to normal."

"Is it a good idea for me to drive like this?"

"You should be okay. Wear your sunglasses. That'll help."

First of all, I despise that ridiculous pupil dilation thing.

You lose an entire day waiting for your peepers to recuperate from a test for old people.

No matter how much they nag, I will not succumb to the pupil death test again until I am actually old. In five years.
Also, the receptionist at my eye doctor's office has a serious disability.

She always says the wrong thing. It's like she's having a conversation with you from a parallel universe.


"Your husband isn't here yet."

Jim has an appointment an hour after mine at 10:30. I'm guessing it's around 10:10 a.m.

"I'm sure he'll be here soon," I say, avoiding eye contact mostly because I'm BLIND from the fucking pupil test.

"We'll keep your secret safe."

Heh? What secret? Where am I? And why can't I SEE?
I drove home. Blind. Dangerously blind.

It's a goddamn good thing I know the route by heart and there were no random pedestrians on the shoulder. I think.

Feeling my way into the house, I promptly removed the lenses, thinking my eyes just needed to 'rest' a bit.
What is it about doctors that makes us trust them over our own instinct? Or in my case, my own eyes?

I knew something was wrong. But the doctor said I'd be okay driving.

So I drove.
Growing up, did your parents 'rest their eyes'?

"Are you sleeping?" I'd ask, catching Mom or Da snoozing on the couch.

"No, I'm just resting my eyes."

And that little bit of drool dripping down to your collar? Are you resting your mouth, too?
Anyhoo. After a few hours, I pop in the new contacts. Again.

Instantly blinded. Again.

It was the wrong prescription. The contacts were Jim's.
I am listening to: KT Tunstall - Suddenly I See
I am reading: WWE by Ken Follett
And I am: Having trust issues


molly gras said...

OMG! Hedy, you need to locate different eyeball folks! I mean, come on, drive while blind, Asperger receptionist, wrong contact prescription -- in my books, that's a "three strikes, you're out" kind of experience.

just a thought ...