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"You are not an accident, you are a divine choice." -Henri Nouwen
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Today was my annual (14 months, 18 days) trip to the eye doctor. This could be interesting, because this 52 year old is going to ask for a trial pair of contacts. Vicky has been suggesting it, while I have been balking.
While filling out paperwork, a lady close to me asks, “Have you ever been here before?”
“Yes,” is my reply, “several times. They have always treated me well.”
“I’m coming for contacts. I’m out right now and I don’t enjoy wearing glasses.”
“I’m coming for contacts, too. I have never had them, but my wife told me to get them. I’m a very obedient husband.”
She laughs, seeing right through me.
I take the exam with one of the helpers. In one test, I am instructed to stare at the little black square in the middle and click a little clicker when I see lines. “All right! A video game!”
“Well, it’s something like that, Tim.”
*click* *click*
“Tim, it hasn’t started yet.”
“I see lines and I hate losing!”
The test complete, they take me into the doctor and he exams my eyes.
“Tim, this light is going to be even brighter as I look at the back of your eyes.”
After a little time I ask, “Do you see a little breeze blowing back there?”
Laughing, the doctor says, “Your eyes are fine, and there is definitely something back there.”
“Could I have that in writing for my wife?”
Leading me out of the office, they take me past the waiting area where the newbie patient is still waiting. As I march by behind the assistant I say, “They’re throwing me out.”
A few minutes later, they lead me to a little room to teach me how to put in and take out my new contacts. A cinch, right? Of course not.
After 30 minutes of trying to get in the right contact, I am frustrated. “This cannot be rocket science,” I state. “Get me a stapler!”
“You’ll get it, Tim. Be patient.”
“How about superglue?”
The lady suggests I try the left eye, which I do. After a few more infuriating minutes, another lady patient walks into the room to take out her contacts for an exam. *ploop* *ploop*
“Excuse me, ma’am, would you put my contacts in for me?”
Another working lady comes in and two people are now trying to help me. After several more attempts, I stare at both of them with my jaw set.
“One of you put this contact on your finger and I will run my eye into it!”
Finally, after very detailed instruction, I get one contact in and then the other. I am exhausted . . . but feeling triumphant.
“Great, Tim. Now show me you can take them out.”
I look at her in horror! “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
After a few more minutes, they are out and back in.
“Well, yes Tim. You might want to try 3:00 am.”
*Smart-aleck*
I asked my doctor now how was I going to put them in when I got old(er). He said his oldest contact patient was 92! He got me on that one.
Lisa
I remember getting my first pair of hard lenses. The night before I had a dream that the doctor was comming at me with lenses as big as dinner plates.
Good luck.
I hate to think that someday I may not be able to put them in! I've been told that even if I had lasik surgery I might still have to wear glasses (but at least they would be thinner than my current glasses!)
enjoyed your story. All of my friends wear contacts and thank goodness my eye doctor said I am not a candidate (unless I want to put them in for just reading, he said)..
This is so funny....thanks for sharing. It also reminds me to make my next eye doctor's appointment. I'm sure I'll be thinking of this throughout my exam..I won't be able to keep a straight eye..umm... face.
Pat
Diane
