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August 17, 2005

Dr. Eyelove Or How I Learned To Blink Rapidly and Have Acid Flashbacks

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Why does the eye doctor make me hostile?

Every time I go, I find that the field of opthalmology has made rabid technological advances totally unnecessary. The eye doctor in Fenton now has a electronic circular table which rotates so that the eye nurse can use different machines. Actually making me stand and move to the different machines would be too much to ask, apparently. Don't they know there's an energy shorage?

Instead of focusing on dot that moves from blury to clear, they now have a computer generated little house in a field. Now the letter charts are on a computer screen... does this improve my vision in any way, shape or form? No, it is the abuse of technological advances so that some dumb-ass patient can feel amused for a moment. Alice, the eye doctor done lept into the nineties! Sure, they ain't cured glacoma, but now there's a goddamn house in the field! Ya think there are little eye doctor people living in the house, plotting to liberate the contact solution in their war against the eyeglass cases?

The eye doctor is painless. Why aren't these advances being used in the field of, I don't know, dentistry? Yes, that unholy of all doctor visits. The pain, the blood, the inability to feel your tongue for the next ten days... and the eye people have a computer generated house and a computerized spin table? Meanwhile, the dentist's still using instruments from the Inquisition. Share with the others, eye doctor bastards!

I P N R Z. T L Q F O. This is not a challenge. There are only twenty six letters and while many look similiar, you can always make an educated guess. If you really wanted to test my vision, you'd put a picture of George W. Bush in front of me and arm me with a shotgun. That's useful. This is letter abuse at it's most vulgar. Besides the writings of Cal Thomas, natch.

I figured the visit was finished after money was exchanged. Not so. I go back so they can "measure my eyes for contacts." I have worn contacts for thirteen years. I have not grown at all in thirteen years. Not even my feet have changed size. But my eyes are growing? Will I soon look like a Martian? Is this something your radical, insipid technological advances can stop? Shouldn't you have told me about this earlier, before I paid?

My eyes are a size five and a half, six for high heels.

The machine they "measured" my eyes with looks like a gigantic lollypop plastered on to a cone shape, with that "1984" torture equipment face guard. At first, I felt like Dr. Suess, red and white swirls everywhere I could see. Then I realized why they asked, twice, whether the patient used illegal drugs. Let's just say that the flashbacks became somewhat panicky, as I saw myself as a speck walking first on the white swirl, then on the red and then being confronted by a gigantic opthalmologist holding a computer generated bottle of contact solution. The Cat in The Hat was lecturing me about dental care.

All I wanted was some more boxes of contacts.

Posted by emily at August 17, 2005 2:53 AM

Comments

Don't forget the homely woman that works in the eye glasses area. She has no sense of humor. At all. None. Freaky it is.

Posted by: triv [TypeKey Profile Page] at August 17, 2005 11:39 AM

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