Last week I made an appointment with a new optometrist for an eye checkup, since it’s been a couple of years since I last thought about my eyeballs. My last optometrist was memorable for all the wrong reasons, in that I once asked him a casual question about one of my eyes and he responded, Have you ever been to Africa? It’s probably a parasite.
I haven’t been to Africa, actually, but thanks for that. The nightmares have been a real awakening.
This morning I asked the same question of my new eyeballogist and she apologised on behalf of the entire industry for her colleague. She confirmed that I’m not hosting a brain-eating worm and instead offered to take photographs of the backs of my eyes in order to properly investigate it. The photos she took cost me about the same price as a glamour portrait session so I’m somewhat compelled to frame them and hang them over the TV, but the good news is that my eyes are in perfect health. No glaucoma, no macular degeneration, and no illegal tenants.
I bought these beautiful babies and now I have to wait two weeks for them to arrive. They say business at the front, party at the side, and No Trespassing to organisms who depend on my body for nutrients.
It was worth the extra few bucks for that feature.