Needlework, Really?

This was me at the eye doctor’s where I just went for my annual checkup. It was hard enough driving home after with cloven hooves for hands on the wheel never mind having messed up peepers.

The funny thing  is I went to this eye doctor’s with a sackful of needlework. NEEDLEWORK! At the eye doctor’s! where the first thing they do to you is tap your head back pry open your frightened little eyes and squeeze an oily yellow blurt of squirt into them!

The squirt is a numbing agent of some kind  that anesthetizes the area so that they can then squeeze in the drug that dilates the pupils – or as the tech explained it, paralyzes the muscles so your poor irises CAN’T contract to protect the eye from too much light. Bring on the eclipses!  The light barrels on in and that’s how they check your pressures to be sure nobody backstage there is cookin’ up a sneaky case of glaucoma, which can leave you blind – or, in my mother’s case, necessitate an iridectomy that leaves you with eyes like a goat (see above.)

Make no mistake: I’m happy to have my eyes checked. In fact and I find all parts of the exam both entertaining and instructive. I just can’t seem to get it through my head every year that of the muscles are paralyzed I won’t be able to focus. That is, read.

Or choose a playlist on my iPod.

Or, God  knows, do needlework.

And yet I brought the iPod.

I brought the needlework

I brought even the Kindle thinking to set it on A VERY LARGE FONT for the 40 or so minutes I would be waiting for my pupils to dilate and my doctor to finish Facebooking her friends over her ham sandwich .

In the end it was all foolishness. First, the wait was one 15 minutes, and second , the muscles of my eye were stopped in their tracks, like the butterflies my sister and I used to asphyxiate and then mount with common pins in our grandfather’s old cigar boxes.

So no reading. No groovin’ on tunes. Certainly no needlework.

I just had to sit looking like this for six hours waiting for the drug to wear off. Paralyzed is paralyzed it seems, however strong you may wish otherwise.

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “Needlework, Really?

  1. And it’s frightening driving home afterwards because the sunlight bounces off the chrome of oncoming cars. I bring my dark shades, but they are not protective at all.

  2. Joan, next time ask your eye doctor for their little plastic flat sunglasses…they are very dark and are better than regular ones after the eye dilation. My doctor offers these, maybe yours does, if you ask.

  3. OK. Thanks for the tip. By the way, did you see 60 Minutes last Sunday about the people who are face-bllnd? They cannot recognize a face, even the faces of their family members, or themselves in a photo. Then the opposite condition exists too, in which a person can never forget a face, even that of a stranger passing by. What a Wonderland world we inhabit!

  4. Ah yes the eye doctor. Mom and I always enjoyed our visits there in Cape Cod. During the early visits we were entertained by Harold Russell the double amputee from that old war movie. He was always laughing and joking and we were lucky enough to see him there 2 different times. Reminded me of Da.

  5. I recently saw Harold Russell in The Best Years of our Lives on Turner Classic Movies. Dana Andrews and Myrna Loy also starred in that movie, made around 1946. A good one.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s