By Jody Worsham
All rights reserved for 400 strength readers
No, this is not about son's eyeball flipping around. This is about my eyes and I haven't rolled my eyes around in my head since I was a teenager. This is about my recent eye exam.
My first eye exam took place when I was a junior in high school and the only reason I went to the eye doctor then was because I kept typing the same line over and over (I am a very fast typist so I don't read what I type as I am sure you are aware if you have read more than one of my blogs.) With that problem corrected, I didn't go back for about twenty years; then every ten years, five years, and now in the latter half century every six months it seems.
This time I was screened for glaucoma. I think one of the technicians, probably a former student that failed my class, must have seen me practicing my curb jumping and told the secretary to send me a card suggesting an appointment and screening for severe peripheral vision defects. I put on the one-eyed pirate mask and proceeded to click a button every time I saw a flash or as the techie suggested "Every time you think you see a flash." So is this a mental test or an eye test?
This was followed by, as the techie, said "Eyeball pressure check". I think the kid must have worked summers at a tire store. This was followed by the Sesame Street portion of the exam. "Is it better this way? Or that way? Better #1 or #2? Better #3 or #4?" I wanted to say "Better without the yellow numbing junk you squirted in my eye and the Star Wars Intergalactic light explosions I was subjected to earlier" but I didn't. I just said "One, two, two, one, no difference."
This was followed by a half hour wait to see the doctor. I tried to watch the educational DVD that was playing but all I could see were purple dots dancing across the screen.
Finally I saw the doctor. He hummed, hum? Oh, hum! and then declared me fine. I then asked "What about the double vision I have after reading a paperback book?" "Hum?" He looked at my chart, raised his eyebrows and said "At your age, I would suggest stronger readers and maybe these eye drops."
I was feeling pretty good about the results of the exam and miffed about the "at your age" remark until he added, still scrutinizing my chart, "You know, you don't look your age. You look at the most 55." That last remark, while flattering, didn't exactly instill confidence in his ability to see. I left thinking to myself, he needs to make an appointment with Darth Vader, the tire guy, and the Sesame Street drop out if he thinks I look 55!"
Oh well, six months and I get to do all this again. Hope it doesn't change to every three months.