“Dreaded Glaucoma Test....


gotta take it when you’re seventeen.” I had an eye exam yesterday and I always get that song stuck in my head. It’s by some whackado called “weird Paul” (or something like that). I got the tape from a Tower coworker a really long time ago and don’t have any idea where it is now. Dave had to remind me where I heard the song. Yet every year, when my chin is resting in the little cup and they shoot air at my eye, I have that “song” (it barely qualifies the label) stuck in my head. Cheers! to Weird Paul or whatever his name is.

So yesterday, they’re going to dilate my eyes. If you’ve never had this done, the drops they put in your eyes sting. It’s not a big deal, but you definitely feel it. So, she puts the stinging drops in and then, after the stinging has pretty much stopped, she says “okay now I’m going to put drops in to numb your eyes.” Huh? Couldn’t she have done that first? Maybe they sting too, like lidocane shots. She probably just didn’t like me. Dave told me when he went to his appointment a couple of weeks ago, he could see her thong strap hanging out. Why he was looking at her ass, I didn’t ask.

I also found out that I have a mole/freckle-like thing in my left eye called a nevus. For some reason this grosses me out. The optometrist checks it out and make sure it hasn’t changed, just like watching a mole for cancer. My optometrist says they’re fairly common. He has three of them in one eye. Still sort of “oogy.”

They have a new guy there who helps you pick out your frames. He was great. I’d put a pair on and he’d say, “Nope.” Unfortunately I can’t sport the type of frames I like. ALL of the plastic frames look stupid on me. Anything that has any sort of “cat eyeness” looks ridiculous. I put one pair on and the guy said “too bug-eyed.” He was a lot of fun.