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Thursday, February 26, 2004

Little did I know that when I got back from the eye doctor today the computer screen would look like a strobe light. A very bright strobe light, flashing directly into my eyes. Foolishly, I'd planned to get some work done this afternoon, even with my eyes still dilated. Alas, it was not meant to be. Just looking at the monitor gave me a headache.

In fact, as soon as I stepped out the door of the doctor's office onto the shiny wet parking lot asphalt, I had the makings of a headache. I know it wasn't really that bright outside, what with the sky being so gray and all. It's a good thing I had Mom there to drive me home (in her new car).

She waited the whole two hours for me, through all my tantrums and fits when the receptionist wouldn't let me see the doctor without agreeing to pay for it. Yes, I knew my insurance card had expired, but I also knew that I have the same coverage that I did before. Her excuse was that she didn't know where to bill the insurance company, because they have so many addresses. And she was apparently too busy to call and find out.

So I had to front the money, and now I have to track down an updated card and then take it in to the office and then wait for them to get paid by the insurance and then after that wait until they reimburse me for the money I gave them today. That's why I was having tantrums and fits and biting off shreds of the inside of my cheek.

She wasn't even all that nice about it, but at least she didn't chastise me for not filling out their questionnaire correctly. I'm not sure she even looked at it, so I didn't have to use my speech after all. (I did make a few gestures, but not where she could see them.)

The exam itself was a piece of cake. I let the nurse stick all those machines in my face and put drops in my eyes and flash lights at me and even stick the little bitty scale right smack dab on my eyeball, without complaining (and almost without blinking). I also saw the actual doctor himself for a few minutes. He double-checked his nurse's work, wrote me out a new prescription, and told me to come back in two years. Now that's the kind of doctor I like (even for $165.00).

23 February 2004

Looking east through the back yard, from behind the garden. (Got it?)

When I went to the optician's desk to have my prescription refilled, they couldn't have been nicer. I hardly knew I was still in the same office. They took my old expired insurance card, called the company, and confirmed that I had coverage for new glasses. The optician (her name is Rachel, wouldn't you know) explained everything and even made a few jokes at my expense. Imagine that, a sense of humor. I was actually smiling when I left, even though I paid them $316.00 for new lenses that I won't have for five to seven days.

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I kept coming back to the computer periodically to see if things were getting any better for me. No. Not much. Maybe a little, late in the day, but I typed most of this entry with my eyes closed. (So you could cut me some slack.) Oddly enough, though, I didn't have any of the same symptoms or problems watching TV.

Recent recommendations can always be found on the links page.

One year ago: Underbooked
"Who knows what a person would do, given the chance? I'd like to think I'd rise to the occasion, rather than sinking to my basest nature."

Two years ago: Number Two Pencil
"I know why Republicans wouldn't want her to be reelected, because she's an outspoken liberal (yes, there still is such a person), but I can't think why any Democrat would vote against her."

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What scares me
Is that while you're telling me stories
You actually
Believe that they are real