It’s time for an annual rant about one of the many so-called health professionals I consider to be the licensed equivalent of voodoo magicians. Namely, optometrists.
Yes, today was my annual eye exam. I’ve found it’s to my benefit to do this annually, so the drastic degradation in my vision appears more of a natural flow than a jerky jump.
I felt like I couldn’t see a damned thing, which is (I think) how they suck you into believing what they’re doing is necessary and good.
The initial exam — contacts still in — really made me feel blind. Here I was, wearing the lenses that have somehow kept me alive for the last 12 months, and I was missing at least 2-3 out of every 5 letters. Shockingly, though, the girl who did that part of the exam reported I was seeing “basically 20/20 — maybe a little 20/25 in places.” So, apparently, feeling blind is normal??
Then we did the whole “one, or two? three, or four? five, or six? [etc.]” game, which again I’m convinced is wholly unscientific. Most of the time there’s either an enormous difference or none at all, from my perspective, which (again) makes me feel blind. Only, at this point, it starts to get personal — like it’s my fault I’m blind. I always want to whimper, “I swear! I use a lamp when I read! I do!”
Next was the creepy orange eye drops, which make me feel like I’ve been crying for a few hours solid, chased with extremely bright light. Then the eye drops to dialate my pupils, 15 minutes of excruitiating waiting, more painfully bright light, dorky wannabe sunglasses, fork over $30, and I’m dismissed.
After all that self-loathing, so neatly contained in a single 45-minute appointment, I’m told my eyes have actually remained fairly stable this year and that everything looks pretty good.
Tonight’s our after-work holiday party at the office, for which we’re all going to dinner (dutch) together at one of Denton’s best Italian restaurants. Me? I’m in absolutely TOP style, wearing my glasses with my wannabe “I just had my pupils dialated” sunglasses tucked underneath and feeling like I need about a 5-hour nap to recover from the hours of crying it feels like I just did.