Sunday, November 14, 2010

Farcical Farsightedness

Although we had a good long run at the mildly-impaired stage, my vision degeneration has entered into Phase 3. My reading-glasses prescription has become a little too under-par and I’ve been avoiding making an optometry appointment for more than a year. To be sure, paying a visit to an optometrist is less stressful than going to the gynecologist or getting an annual physical, but I’m pretty sure that an out-of-pocket payment of more than $25 will be involved, and I’ve always had sketchy experiences with eye doctors. When I first needed glasses, I was treated by the harmlessly creepy father of someone I casually knew. When I first moved to New York, I went to an eye doctor who (I later learned) has had a battery of A-list celebrities under his care. This lecherous little man was one of the driving forces behind my recent policy of only seeking basic health care services from female doctors. I also got a weird vibe from the chain optical center I went to a couple of years ago, and I had been fixing to make the pair of spectacles they sold me last forever.

Per the counsel of a random acquaintance, I just bought me some $16 non-prescription reading glasses at Rite Aid. In addition to being fugly, they’re unusable - I can’t see in them. They’ve turned out to be way too strong and I wonder how much longer I have with this bloody headache. I need to take the glasses off in order to read, write, or think straight. Although taking them off initially felt like sweet freedom, they’ve been off for at least 30 minutes and I’m still heavy-headed and somewhat cross-eyed. My vision has moved into Phase 4 and now I really need to get my ass to an eye doctor - even if it’s one of the freakshow ones.

Shortcuts have never worked for me. I should have known not to take advice from someone who hasn’t been to a dentist in a decade because she thinks the radiation from the X-ray machines might kill her.

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