Bekah Goes to the Eye Doctor

Confession.

I'd never been to the eye doctor until this week.

I have read the obligatory charts throughout elementary school and of course, every time I went to the BMV. {Is it BMV or DMV? I never remember. But whatever MV place gives eye tests and licenses...that one.}

I've never had pain, blurry vision, double vision, or anything else that would send me to the doctor. And I saw no reason to pay the money for such things if I didn't feel I needed to be seen.

After all, that money can be invested in Hobby Lobby, you know. But Ryan doesn't fully appreciate the investments of the Hobby Lobby clearance aisle, so he said I needed to make an appointment at the eye doctor. He said it would be good to get a base line. You know what else would be good? A base line of clearance decor.

So I made an appointment, and I have to start this story by saying that our eye doctor is AMAZING. He's a friend of ours from our old church, and he's filled with kindness and personality and a calming presence about him that sucked the anxiety out of even me. I was not nervous for one minute about seeing HIM. I knew he would be understanding, professional, and nothing short of ideal. My nervousness stemmed from Ryan's enthusiastic storytelling after his own previous appointments. The stories in which he told me all the "really cool stuff" they can read in your eyes. Stuff like diabetes, high cholesterol and even brain tumors.

Yes. Let's find some of THAT on a Monday afternoon, shall we? Because I've not had enough in the past year, what with the periodontal surgery and the gallbladder eviction.

So I went. I drove myself to the eye doctor and took the clipboard of forms and promptly began filling them out. One of the questions asked what prompted this visit, and I wrote {not kidding} "My husband said I had to." Apparently this is not a common answer on a medical form, but it did crack up the office staff.

I sat like a big girl in the waiting room and Instagrammed this picture, in which I declared my eyes looked fine to me...and would anyone notice if I sneaked out???

The nice lady called me back, and I had my first test...in which I donned this SUPER CUTE eye patch and punched a little button every time I saw a dot flash in the machine. It's possible I got distracted and started punching it every time I saw a dot flash OR heard the machine move. I scored OVER 100% on that one. LOL!!

I asked the nice lady if I could take a selfie with the eye patch, because I'm a blogger, and she kindly turned on the light so I could take this picture {which I'm sure will revolutionize your life and be totally worth the delay in her day}...and she said lots of people take pictures. Then she paused and said, "Well, come to think of it, it's actually usually parents taking pictures of kids." Yeah. Well. My mom didn't come with me, so I'm on my own here.

I survived the puff of air, the picture of my eyeball, and NEARLY survived the eye drops she put in to dilate my pupils. Seriously cannot handle stuff in my eyes, so I had to have that done a couple of times, because I may have dodged out of the first attempt. {That would have been a well-deserved second reference to childish behavior, but she refrained.}

And then I waited for the good doctor. Waited while taking more selfies, of course.

He arrived and we talked about how my eyes felt, especially given the hours I spend reading and in front of a computer each day. I recommended he increase his biggest hour option on the form from 10 hours to 24. Because that's what I needed for my form.

He showed me pictures of my eye and told me it was textbook healthy. I followed his hand with my eye and held still while he put the brightest kind of light in my eye. I could read the line below the 20/20 vision line, so he said we're in great shape for a while.

"In great shape" is not a sentence I hear often, so I almost wanted to ask for it in writing. He said the tests stretched out my eye muscles, and I asked if that could count as my workout for the day. And he said yes. So I let it.

At the end of the appointment, he asked if I had any questions and then launched into his obligatory medical speech, which encouraged me to eat healthy, with lots of greens. I asked if green cupcakes counted, and he said that was not the first time he had that question, but typically it came from a four-year-old.

At last I'm consistent.

And then it was over! I survived and took my mildly dilated pupils straight to the ice cream shop where I treated myself to a small chocolate milkshake that was worth every calorie. It was delicious. I can't even remember the last honest-to-goodness small-town-shop milkshake I had.

So that's it! My first visit to the eye doctor. Painless, truly, though not nearly as pretty as a cruise through the clearance aisle at the Hobby Lobby.