"Eye Can't Stand It" by Troy H. Cheek on Apr 14, 2008
I was driving home from work the other day when my cellular phone rang. "Yes, dear!" I answered.
I've taken to answering it that way because the only two people who have my cellular phone number who I also actually want to talk to are my mother and my girlfriend, neither of whom are offended by my referring to them in such a manner.
If I offend one of the guys from work or some business which claimed it only needed my cell phone number for accounting purposes and had promised never to call, all the better.
In this case, I offended a nurse calling on behalf of my PCP, which stands for Primary Care Physician, though I have much more interesting (and unprintable) definitions. These definitions also offend her. My general appearance and demeanor also seem to offend her. Not that I care.
"Mister Cheek, I'm calling to let memphle mumphle momphle very important razzy frazzy spazzy first one tomorrow wrinkle crinkle binkle next week. Did you get that?"
"I got my name and you asking if I got that. Everything in between was lost due to low signal or traffic noise."
"What?"
Eventually, I determined that my physician had decided to refer me to some other physicians. He'd spoken of this during my last office visit, but in a casual way which I thought meant that I'd be making those appointments myself at some later date. Apparently, I thought wrong. I tried to explain to the nurse that while I appreciated her setting up these appointments on my behalf, she might have remembered that I work for a living. Besides, I was trying to drive, and I'm firmly of the opinion that driving while talking on a cell phone is at least as dangerous as driving drunk.
I finally told her I'd drop by the office the next day to speak to her, seeing as I couldn't drive, hold the phone, and write down the times and dates she kept throwing at me.
The next day, I discovered that I had appointments with an eye doctor and a foot doctor. I could understand that I needed to see a foot doctor seeing as I was a noncompliant diabetic who had never had a foot exam. I could even see why they'd found one for me, as I'd mentioned I wouldn't know how to find one on my own. On the other hand, I'd seen an eye doctor a year or so before and had already made plans (though not an actual appointment) to see him again soon.
Oh, that doctor didn't count. You see, I saw an eye doctor who shared a building with a one-hour eyeglasses place. I needed to see a real doctor and get a real eye exam. I tried to explain that my eye doctor was indeed a real eye doctor, but nobody believed me.
I called up the eye doctor, whose staff was much more understanding and cooperative, and rescheduled for another day. I showed up a few minutes early because I knew from experience that I'd have to fill out a page or three of forms.
"Just sign in here, Mister Cheek. The doctor will be with you shortly."
"You don't have any forms for me to fill out?" I asked.
"Oh, no, Mister Cheek. Only new patients have to fill out forms."
Sigh. "I am a new patient," I explained.
"Oh. Well, did you get the information packet? We usually send them out a week before the first appointment."
"A week ago, we didn't know I had this appointment," I reminded her.
"Oh. Fill out these forms, please. Also, we'll need a copy of your insurance card and picture ID."
I filled. I copied. "Okay, Mister Cheek. That's everything. The doctor will be with your shortly."
"Very well. I'll be over here in the corner quietly going blind."
"Fine." Pause. "No, wait! Quietly is fine! Don't go blind! Don't go blind, sir!"
That quieted down the waiting room real quick like.
The doctor wasn't with me shortly, but the nurse had me out of the waiting room shortly. "What brings you to us today, Mister Cheek?"
"My primary care physician decided that since I was diabetic, 40 years old, and had never had a real eye exam by a real eye doctor, I needed one."
"Never had a real eye exam? Never had a real eye doctor?"
I explained that I'd had several eye exams in one-hour eyeglass places by several eye doctors who worked in one hour eyeglass places. My doctor just didn't believe these were real exams by real doctors because they worked in those places.
"Weird. Well, put your chin here and look straight ahead and we'll check-"
"We'll check my interocular pressure, a contributing factor in glaucoma."
"Ri-ight. I guess you have had one of these before. Okay. Now, lean back and we'll put these drops in your eyes. This will-"
"This will cause my pupils to dilate. My eyes might sting a bit, but this will be temporary. In a few minutes, I'll notice that my close-up vision will get a little wonky. I might see better without my glasses than with them for a while. The effect will start wearing off in a few hours, and by morning I'll be back to my old self."
"Ri-ight. I guess you've had one of these, too. Okay. Now, I'll just leave you in the waiting room and-"
"And the doctor will be with me shortly."
"Ri-ight."
The doctor was indeed with me shortly. She was even friendly. "So, you've never had an eye exam before?"
I explained again. She assured me that she was indeed a real eye doctor.
Sigh. "So were the other doctors. The last one even pointed out his diploma to me. Of course, this was after he'd put those drops in my eyes, so he was pointing to a green blur on the wall, but I'm pretty sure it was a diploma. Where's your diploma?"
She was a little less friendly after that. I'm pretty sure she shined that light in my eyes a bit longer than she needed to. On the other hand, she did find something wrong. Possibly.
"Mister Cheek, where the optic nerve connects to the retina is a structure called the cup. Most people's cups cover about 15% of the area. In your left eye, coverage is about half that. In your right eye, it's about double that."
"What's that mean?"
"Probably nothing. I mean, it could be the first sign of glaucoma, but it's probably nothing. Nothing to worry about. Don't worry. Your interoccular pressures are normal, so you're probably not at risk. I'll order some more tests and see you again in about six months. Don't worry."
Whenever someone tells me not to worry more than once, I start worrying.
