There was no knitting, or reading, or television watching or fun* of any kind last night because my eyes went nuts. Mr. Smellypants just went into "his office" to take a dump for the third time this afternoon - that isn't pertinent to anything but I just thought I would share. I'm nice like that. HA! Anywho ...
I have eye issues. They are sad. And expensive. I went in for my regular exam and my unusually-attractive-for-a-doctor doctor** said that I had turned into a "real contact lens wearer." This was surprising to me since: 1) I have been wearing contact lenses for about the last (gulp) eighteen years. Holy Shizzle! When did I become old enough to do anything for eighteen years? and 2) I wear my contacts 98% of the time, all day every day. Always have. So it would seem to me that I have been pretty "real." I asked Dr. CuteStuff what did this "real contact lenses wearer" mean. He said that I have developed bleh bleh bleh (medical term with neo and itis and izzle and other, hard to pronounce, things in the middle there). It seems that my eyes are creating making growing (?) extra vessels ... um, I'm a freak.*** I also have some retina issue, which I have always had, that is exacerbated because my astigmatism is changing. The bottom line is that I have to wear my contacts less and my glasses more and I have to change contact lens type (back to the gas permeable which I had for about 15 years and totally liked just fine) which, in the end, is going to cost like, $1000 (gasp! sputter! shake!) and I have to have my eye, um, mapped. How ick does that sound? It takes "like ten minutes" to map the eyeballs so we'll see how that goes. In the meantime I have shelled out over $500 for a pair of glasses and a pair of sunglasses. RIDICULOUS. When I asked Boo how people who, unlike me, live within their means can afford this shit he said, "They go to Sears and buy Chester the Child Molester glasses and then they prey on small children."**** So, really, by racking up more debt I am doing the children some good. The last thing they need is some big ole' white woman looking to gobble them up. Mr. Smellypants has officially finished. Dirty Man! Dirty Dirty Man!
* This is actually not TOTALLY true. I know, can you believe I would fib? Hard to fathom. In any event, I did have fun at dinner with Boo and then later when we got home (Not that kind of fun! Pervy! We played cards and drank wine for a bit, or did we?).
** Who, as an aside, flirts with all of this patients, young or old, fat or skinny, black or white, male or female. This may be why when I asked people if they had an eye doctor they liked, three random, unrelated and unknown to each other people all recommended him. And, as an aside to my aside (because you can never have too many asides) the same thing happened with my dentist. Random unknown people all recommended the same guy. Though he is not a flirt or unusually attractive - though he is good looking - he is very popular amongst my friends.
*** This, unfortunately, is well documented and true. My body does it's own thing like rejecting metal used to hold bones together or rejecting anesthesia to keep me asleep during surgery or rejecting internal stitches that are holding stuff together and on and on it goes much like this post which lacks direction, or pictures, or fun.
**** I tend to be brutally honest with people, especially the ones I love, but I have lied to both Boo and Frito about their eyeglasses. Boo had the Chester's and Frito had children's glasses. Both looked ridiculous in their respective eye wear but I didn't have the heart to tell them. Boo still is ticked about it and says, "How could you let me wear them for years?" To which I reply, "We were at opposite ends of the country and I didn't have to look at them and you were BROKE. You could have done NOTHING about it but felt bad about yourself every morning when you put them on. So really, I was doing you a HUGE favor by keeping my trap shut." He does not concur. Frito did in fact return his kid's glasses (oral sex may have been involved as eye glass returns were unheard of at this time) and then chastised me for being less than forthright afterwards. I used the can't-return-so-you-were-screwed argument with him too. And, like Boo, he was not impressed.