Yesterday I had to submit to the worst part of scheduled medicine ever - getting one's eyes examined. Although I have worn glasses since the age of 8 and currently am considered legally blind in some states, my eyes themselves are fairly healthy. How this is I can't really say because I have all sorts of crap wrong with them. The details are irrelevant, suffice to say that I think my eyes are actually just meant for decoration and not actually functional. Somehow I see the world, presumably because of some innate superpower or accidental exposure to gamma ray radiation - much like the Hulk ("You wouldn't like me when I can see you"). The way I know this is that they are always creating some sort of pseudo-serious problem like bizarre wavy visions or rippling. It's like what I'd imagine being high on LSD is like only without the spiders crawling all over me and general feeling of amazement that the sky is able to hold itself up without any visible means of support.
Of course, every time I go into the eye doctor to get some problem looked at I am subjected to a practice which should clearly be banned under the Geneva Convention - dilation. When I was a young boy, my eyes were actually nearly immune to the stuff they use to do it, so I usually ended up getting multiple doses in order to "speed up the process". By the time I became an adult, the eyes had pretty much given up resistance and just accepted that they were no longer in charge of (or even a meaningful part of) the whole process - sort of like the Democrats. Indeed, these days, my eyes willingly open up to reveal their secrets to anyone who will listen - sort of like that drunk guy in the bar at 3 am who won't leave you alone but insists on telling you about what a b*tch his ex-girlfriend was and how she won't let him see the dog and how he's gonna get a dog-lawyer and take her to court; at which point you ask "What, do you mean a lawyer who specializes in dog custody?" and he says "No man, I want the lawyer to *be* a dog! There's no way a dog lawyer would let my lil buddy stay with that woman. Even if we lost maybe he'd bite her...".
Even worse is that they *stay* like that for what seems like three days. Case in point:
This was my eye as of about 2.5 hours after they said it was to have worn off. Yes, I*can* see you. And I'm judging you too - hence the look of shock and horror.
I can only be glad that it was cloudy on the way home. These are the moments I am glad to be living in Chicago in the winter. If it was summer (or California) the sunlight alone would probably have burned by retinas into an unrecognizable mass unless I had quickly been able to fashion a pair of makeshift Eskimo goggles out of a Hostess cupcake container and rubber band in a MacGuyver-esque moment of sheer brilliance.
Of course, every time I go into the eye doctor to get some problem looked at I am subjected to a practice which should clearly be banned under the Geneva Convention - dilation. When I was a young boy, my eyes were actually nearly immune to the stuff they use to do it, so I usually ended up getting multiple doses in order to "speed up the process". By the time I became an adult, the eyes had pretty much given up resistance and just accepted that they were no longer in charge of (or even a meaningful part of) the whole process - sort of like the Democrats. Indeed, these days, my eyes willingly open up to reveal their secrets to anyone who will listen - sort of like that drunk guy in the bar at 3 am who won't leave you alone but insists on telling you about what a b*tch his ex-girlfriend was and how she won't let him see the dog and how he's gonna get a dog-lawyer and take her to court; at which point you ask "What, do you mean a lawyer who specializes in dog custody?" and he says "No man, I want the lawyer to *be* a dog! There's no way a dog lawyer would let my lil buddy stay with that woman. Even if we lost maybe he'd bite her...".
Even worse is that they *stay* like that for what seems like three days. Case in point:
This was my eye as of about 2.5 hours after they said it was to have worn off. Yes, I*can* see you. And I'm judging you too - hence the look of shock and horror.
I can only be glad that it was cloudy on the way home. These are the moments I am glad to be living in Chicago in the winter. If it was summer (or California) the sunlight alone would probably have burned by retinas into an unrecognizable mass unless I had quickly been able to fashion a pair of makeshift Eskimo goggles out of a Hostess cupcake container and rubber band in a MacGuyver-esque moment of sheer brilliance.
Comments
Clearly you have never had a pelvic exam.
I'm so glad I'm a guy...