Thursday, 1 March 2012

Oh So Why My Eyes?

Today has been bollocks.One of those days you could comfortably put in clusterfucked. It is also the day I found out why I am justified avoiding the doctors.
So I have had trouble with my eyes for the last few years, with sties and stuff, also I have had a tendency to wake up with bloodshot eyes, making turning up for early appointments awkward as they always assume that me, a 22 year old male, has been wrecked the night before. 50% of the time they are probably right, but I resent that reputation the other 50% of the time, although it does come in handy when they get used to my bloodshot peepers, as they don't know when I have been wrecked or not.
Anyway, my mam has been getting concerned, so I agreed, very reluctantly to go to the doctors.
Now I hate the doctors, the waiting room is one of them socially awkward situations where you must remain quiet, unless you are under 5 and then you must feel compelled to scream at the top of your lungs. Then you enter to the see the doctor, who insists on making up some bollocks and prescribe you something to justify your visit.
Yet I still went to stop the nagging and clear the niggling feeling in my head that I may wake up blind. I wish I had never bothered.
The waiting room was full of the dieing, as well as kids running and screaming ridiculous noises. People often ask me why I don't want kids, because I like to have quiet. Why are kids encouraged to scream and shout like its OK? Its not OK, only at football matches is it OK and even then you need to be justified in your support/anger. Not only that, but I had to wait in this equivalent to an eternity in hell for half an hour longer due to the doctor running late.
Finally I made it to the doctors, not an apology from the stony faced man for wasting my life, just got straight to my symptoms. He gave his verdict, "there is nothing more I can do, you will have to go to the opticians to get checked out with some better equipment."
So I trudged down the road to the opticians (luckily, it was just down the road) and they could see me immediately, mint! This turned out to be a snippet of light in a very dark day.
I was called in to see the optician, and was sat in a big chair. I am always nervous with the big chair, it has a look of torture about it.
I explained my symptoms, and I was then forced into a contraption that looked like something straight from the set of 'A Clockwork Orange'. Kubrick would have been pleased to see me squirming. Also apparently is  'better equipment' means different colour lights to shine in my eyes and yellow dye to pour into them. Smashing! The verdict? Well the optician filled me with confidence as he began to Google pictures of eyes to look at. Do they not teach you that as an optician these days? He did this, before cutting his losses, referring me to the hospital, and telling me to "wipe my eye a bit" conveniently with a set of wipes they 'happened' to sell in the opticians.
So I am due for a hospital appointment next week! Fantastic, I can't wait. The saga continues.....

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