For years every time I've indulged in the thrills of a doctor visit, the medical profession will roll out some version of the sentence "Well, you're getting older . . . ." Lately I haven't heard it so much, presumably because I am not getting older but rather I have now arrived at that destination.
I did bump into it last spring when my eye doctor tried to brace me for some bad news by explaining that everybody, simply everybody, eventually gets cataracts if they live long enough. Trying to be sympathetic, I murmured something about, "Yeah that's a shame," but then realized he was telling me that I was developing a cataract.
I finally had a consultation at a clinic that specializes in cataracts. It was one of those specialized outfits that has found a medical niche and has created an absolute factory to deal with it. After a barrage of tests, the main doctor guy blew in to say my cataracts were no big deal and I could wait a few years for the surgery if I wanted to. He phrased the news as if he were presenting options I should deliberate about. I asked him if many of his patients argued with him when he told them they didn't need surgery.
While relieved (and I left in a hurry in case he changed his mind) I still had to deal with the after effects of having my eyes dilated for all those stupid tests. Decades of myopia have taught me how little I like dilation because it leaves me with a headache and kind of queasy and, oh yeah, blind as a bat. This particular session used some kind of super special dialation that made my pupils big as big saucers. Had I wanted to, I'm sure I could have seen the inside of the back of my head.
Even with my sunglasses on, I was stumbling through a landscape of screaming white light and occasional blurry shadows which might or might not be my Uber. Acting mostly on faith, I climbed into one of the shadows and whoever it was then dropped me off across the street from my building. I was so relieved it took me a minute to realize, I now had to navigate six lanes of very busy traffic by means of echolocation, pretty much. But the dark lure of my vampire lair bedroom was calling to me so I just threw myself out into traffic and hoped for the best. I seem not to have been run over and I don't have to have cataract surgery yet, so yay.
I think what I need is some seeing eye muscle pussy:
I know what you mean about getting your pupils dilated. I have to have that done at least once a year. Each time, they've got gallons of the stuff that dilates the pupils and absolutely none of the stuff that reverses the dilation! (I'll give that one young man a firm hand or two.)
ReplyDeleteAnonymous, too
Right? Naturally, it had to be one of those dazzlingly bright California days . If I had had access to a bucket, I would have stuck my head in it just to get out of the sun.
DeleteI had a similar experience after an eye appointment just the other week - a) I was told "It's age-related; you cannot stop getting older", which cheered me up no end, and b) I was dilated, dazzled and had a journey home on public transport that was - ahem - disorientating, to say the least...
ReplyDeleteThank heavens for naked men, I say!! Jx
" ...you cannot stop getting older" Thank you for explaining that doctor.
DeleteNaked men are frequently all that get me through the day.
Amen. Jx
DeleteOh dear...my comment disappeared. Curses blogger.
ReplyDeleteWell that's concerning. Do you think Blogger has a grudge against you or are they trying to protect my delicate sensibilities?
DeleteEye doctors used to give out polarized plastic to put behind glasses after the dilated eyes. I saved the last piece I got and take it with me to put behind my glasses when I leave the office. My glasses have transition lenses but that isn’t enough at this point.
ReplyDeleteMy husband always made his appointments the last of the day in the late fall or early winter. The sun would be down when he came out.
How very sensible. My sunglasses helped, but it's tough to argue with California sunshine.
DeleteMy pink eye is dilating at pic 1 & 2.
ReplyDeleteMy maid of all work Carmen has cataracts and she's in her 50s, however its too early to operate on them yet, she also has a blocked tear duct that needs attention and if that fails, she'll need surgery that involves drilling a new tear duct and something about grommets, I stopped listening after that as my television programme was about to start.
It sounds very much like a good eye patch might be a better idea.
DeleteWell hooray for no surgery yet! And for hairy men too. What the hell
ReplyDeleteThat final paragraph before the seeing eye muscle pussy put me in mind of contact lensless Ethan Hawke crossing that busy road to get to Uma Thurman in Gattaca. I'm glad that you made it safely to your lair, mrpeenee.
ReplyDelete