Out of Sight!
Nothing makes you question your own mortality like a visit to the doctor.
My last day in Albuquerque was Thursday. It was an excellent eight days, and everything went great until Wednesday morning, when I had an appointment with bad news.
Tuesday night I went to Rio Chama Brewpub for a nostalgic and crazy night with Rachael, Raquel and Genevieve. I would have entertained the idea of going home early had I remembered the optometrist appointment the next day...but unfortunately, I pulled a serious all-nighter.
I am notorious for sleeping in my contacts and rarely taking them out. I figure they are already called "disposable," I might as well treat them as if they were more permanent. It can't help their self-esteem to be thrown away like garbage. I should have treated this visit like one to the dentist, when I brush my teeth ten times a day for a few days before the visit so I can say "yeah, I treat my teeth well" before he tells me I have six cavities...
I believed my astigmatism had changed, which made reading difficult while wearing my contacts. My glasses had a slightly different prescription, but I can't read while moving around...not to mention the fact that they are still missing both arms.
It's hard to be in grad school when you are physically illiterate, therefore, I made an appointment with an optometrist while I was still covered by my mom's insurance.
One of the first things the doctor required me to do was read the eye chart. Wearing contacts for 24 hours straight makes reading an almost impossible task, especially if your prescription is slightly off anyway. The doctor did some other tests on my eyes, including waving a pen around and forcing me not to blink for a while. I felt like Alex in "A Clockwork Orange" when he's watching the violent movie the first time.
Then came the bad news: it wasn't my astigmatism. I had a muscle imbalance in one of my eyes, plus corneal growth caused by a lack of oxygen from overwearing my disposable contacts. That sounds scary enough, but the worst news was yet to come: it could only be fixed by reading glasses.
Reading glasses? I started getting gray hair a year ago when I moved to Portland (and luckily I've only counted a total of about 10), I have written 2 letters to both of my Oregon congressmen, and I had a letter to the editor published in the Albuquerque Journal.
What's next? An AARP packet? I don't want to be a senior citizen yet! I'm not even a quarter century!
