I went to the doctor today..... and my eyeballs are fine.
Yeah, not everything is about cancer. But that doesn't mean you don't think about it.
After my graceful fall at the post office parking lot last week, I had to get new glasses. The doc wouldn't give me new glasses because I hadn't had an exam in four years. (Yeah, yeah, I know.) Thus the exam today.
It's changed since I've been there. Used to be you went into this little room and dots appeared on the wall. You pressed a clicker every time you saw a dot. It was fun.
Now there are all sorts of machines testing things. It's more like the dmv than a carnival game.
They also had more forms to fill out, giving them permission to dialate my eyes and to take huge pictures of the inside of my eyeballs.
I have to admit I hesitated. You know what exams mean to me these days? Not good news. Tests with pictures and stuff. Not good news. What if they found a huge mass behind my eyeball? (I have no symptoms of that, mind you, but that doesn't mean you don't think about it.)
But I went ahead instead. Life can be nice in the land of denial but it probably shouldn't be a permanent place of residence.
What did I learn? My eyeballs are fine. I have a strong pulse in there. My optic nerve is fine although there's a little thinning because I'm nearsighted. And apparently I have blonde eyes (although not blonde hair) because I don't have a lot of pigment in my eyeballs.
I also have to get new glasses and new contacts. My eyes have changed, although not much.
And I'm getting transitional lenses. Yes, the new age word for bifocals. Although these aren't bifocals per se, with one prescription on top for long distance and another on the bottom for close up. These transition from one to another so there's a middle prescription in there for the computer, too.
It will take some getting used to, I'm told. So I'll be spending the next few weeks (after I get the friggin expensive glasses) bobbing my head at my computer, nodding up and down, trying to find the sweet spot of clear vision.
As many have said, getting older sucks. Now I still want to do it (as opposed to the alternative) but that doesn't mean I can't complain about it.
Yeah, all right, the word is bitch, I know.
And please pardon me for any misspellings. I'm typing this while my eyes are still dialated so who knows what I might actually be saying.
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