Blind Leading Blind: Or, Kate Goes to the Eye Doctor

This week I went to the eye doctor, which is a Big Deal on multiple levels, primary of which is the fact that I am petrified of the doctor in all of its forms. Doctor-doctor because I hate needles. Eye-doctor because that glaucoma test is the Worst of Things and because I’m so blind that the state of Illinois threatened to take away my drivers license (joke’s on you, Illinois, I moved!). Dentist-doctor because I used to be a consultant who traveled every week for work and literally never had time to go to the dentist and even though I’ve never had a cavity and brush religiously and floss nightly and use fluoride mouthwash twice a day it’s still been three years since I’ve actually made it in and I’m so terrified of what they may find that I’m literally rambling now and I just keep not going which I realize is Not Very Mature but there it is and phew does it feel good to get that off my chest.

But this thing happens where if you wear disposable contacts, eventually they run out, even if you’re wearing them for three months at a time and thus extending their shelf life by two years to avoid a doctor visit to order more (hi, my name is Kate, and I have a problem). And if you’re as blind as I am, you’re pretty much guaranteed to be hit by a car if you don’t have those contacts in your eyes, and since (contrary to what my medical professional avoidance may tell you) I do kind of value my life I decided it was important enough to grit my teeth and schedule an appointment.

Here are real things that happened during my appointment that have completely confirmed my hatred of medical professionals (and the fact that without contacts, I’m a menace to society):

• After they made me take out my contacts, I wasn’t really sure where anything was, due to blindness, and the doctor told me after the appointment that I made small talk with an empty chair instead of him.
• When the doctor said, “Now, I know it’s going to be hard to read, but can you make out the letter on the top?” I laughed because har har, Doctor, I’m wise to you, that’s a blank white wall, but my response of “That’s a good one!” was met only with silence, and an eventual, “Wow, it’s that bad, huh?” before I realized that he was serious and there really was some kind of large letter waiting to be read, and I had abysmally failed his test.
• I was told that “I have the eyes of a 65 year old woman,” and I didn’t know if I should be more proud or scared of this fact.
• It took me FIFTEEN TRIES TOTAL to get the Glaucoma Eye Puff Test of Doom completed. FIFTEEN TRIES. I’m pretty sure a toddler gets it done in three.
• As we left the “tell me the letter” room to go to the “let’s figure out what prescription will make you not walk in front of a moving vehicle” room, I didn’t see a wall (because the walls and floors were all white) and I walked right into it, so hard that I staggered backward into a rolly chair and almost fell over. My response? “Why is everything in this office white?! It’s not really helpful to your blind patients!” I couldn’t see him, but the choking noises I heard made me pretty sure the doctor was cracking a rib trying not to laugh at me.

I probably should have felt some degree of shame about the spectacle I made of myself during this visit, but honestly? I left feeling proud and not a little bit in awe of technology, because I couldn’t help but think about Darwin’s survival of the fittest principle and the fact that if I were unhappily born in a prehistoric era, not only would I not get to enjoy the beauty that is Parks & Rec, but I also probably would have been eaten by a dinosaur as kid, or walked off a cliff, because I couldn’t see them coming. Against all odds, this week I walked out of that doctor’s office with as close to 20/20 vision as I’m going to get because of two little discs plastered to my eyes, able to avoid oncoming traffic, even if I wasn’t able to prevent myself from subsequently tripping over the curb (if you find a doctor able to cure clumsiness, let me know, I might be willing to go to that one). What a time to be alive.