Tag: eye clinic

Jim Gets New Eyeglasses!

I got brand new eyeglasses the other day. I have gone without a new prescription that was valid since my retinal detachment surgery over a year ago. It was a bit strange how that worked out. Last year, I saw the eye doctor who gave me a new prescription, but who also diagnosed the retinal tear. That led to the surgery, which made that prescription invalid. I waited a year to let things settle down before getting a new prescription. Before that, it had been about seven years since I’d been to the eye clinic.

Prior to all of that, I’d been having trouble with near and far vision. I have been getting progressive corrective lenses for years. I had been noticing that it was very difficult to read comfortably. I couldn’t read a book for more than brief periods. I had to stop frequently to rest my eyes.

The problem was compounded by poorly fitting glasses. They always slid down my nose, which led to my seeking adjustments. The solution always seemed to be adjusting the bows. That would work for a while, but the problem always recurred. After a while the bows ended up so unequal, my glasses sat crookedly on my ears. I actually ended up with a pressure sore on one ear, which I think finally developed into acanthoma fissuratum. That’s a fancy name for a pressure sore from poorly fitting eyeglasses.

I now have two brand new pairs of glasses, one of which is a pair of sunglasses. This is the first time in my life I’ve ever had prescription sunglasses. When I went to pick them up, they both fit perfectly without any adjustment. The technician gave me a clam shell hard case for the sunglasses and a soft bag for the other pair. She said the company was just trying to go green by cutting down on making the hard cases.

She told me she’d be happy to get me another clam shell hard case, but I declined. I told her I thought they were dangerous. They are too much like spring-loaded animal traps. I made a short comedy YouTube (“Steel Trap Eyeglasses Case by Jim Amos”) demonstrating that, if you’re interested. It’s not the best video because it reveals too much old-guy nose hair.

Now that I have new eyeglasses, I am looking forward to possibly re-reading one of my favorite books, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams.

Jim Goes Hollywood with Post-Dilation Glasses

I got a nice surprise recently after my one-month follow-up postop clinic visit following my retinal detachment surgery. The scheduling desk clerk gave me a pair of post-dilation sunglasses.  That was the first time in years that I’ve been offered them after getting mydriatic drops for eye clinic exams.

The last time I got mydriatic drops, I didn’t get a pair of post-dilation sunglasses and I had to drive myself home. It was pretty uncomfortable and I almost stopped along the way to just park somewhere. I was really light sensitive and I don’t have a regular pair of sunglasses. My eyes were tearing and I had a strong urge to squint so tight, I’d have been driving blind.

That experience was the inspiration for my blog post “Mydriatic Madness” on March 16, 2022.

The eye clinics I’ve been to in past years always used to hand out post-dilation glasses after eye exams in which pupillary dilation was done. It was automatic.

However, in recent years it seems this practice has been abandoned—until just a couple of days ago. The scheduling clerk offered me a pair, for which I was grateful.

Ironically this was after she gave me a form to evaluate whether any of the nurses and doctors had washed their hands before examining me. For the life of me I couldn’t recall if any of them had! I felt embarrassed for them because the rating form was a yes/no format. Essentially, I had to say “no” across the board.

And yet the pair of dilation glasses was the first such courtesy I’ve encountered in years after an eye examination. It’s really more than a courtesy. It could be a safety issue if you’re driving after the exam. And it was the scheduling clerk’s responsibility, evidently. The glasses are kept in a little slot and if you’re not standing in just the right place, you wouldn’t even see them.

I’m not sure if the scheduling clerk ought to be the one offering the glasses. Wouldn’t it be more appropriate for a health care professional to do that? I guess I’m quibbling in a situation where nobody offers them.

Maybe the patients should learn to just ask for post-dilation glasses. They’re even a little stylish. Mine look like what you can buy on Amazon (Scheaffer-Vicron Slip-in) for about $16 for a pack of 25. That’s about 64 cents each so it’s not breaking any eye clinic budget to offer them for free.

And hand-washing should be automatic—or at least noticing when it’s done in front of you.

Mydriatic Madness

I got my eyes examined yesterday. They put mydriatic drops in like they usually do. It’s been a while since my last exam. I remember a long time ago the eye clinics used to give you a free pair of those flimsy paper sunglasses to cut down on the glare and blurriness. I see them going on Amazon for $30-$60 bucks for 50-100 count boxes.

Anyway, they put the mydriatic drops in and after a few minutes, I was blind as a bat. I had to use the restroom and ended up talking to a mop for a couple of minutes. I thought it was strange that a skinny old guy would wear gray dreadlocks.

When I got back in the hallway, I was somewhat disoriented. I walked up and down the hall and must have got off on a side route somehow. I stopped next to a counter, just trying to get my bearings and a guy wearing a white cap asked me,

“Sir, would you like a corn dog? It’s made from plants!”

I said, “Hm, how much?”

“Only $15.99!”

“Excuse me while I check your rating with the Better Business Bureau.”

His face looked like it was starting to drip.

I walked briskly away and eventually found myself in a dark, blurry hallway. I stumbled through a swinging door and heard somebody exclaim,

“Oh no, the surgeon just fainted! Quick, get that guy scrubbed and gowned!”

I haven’t been in surgical garb since medical school, and never that fast. I was a little concerned and asked,

“How did you drag the surgeon out so quickly?”

A scrub nurse snapped, “Doctor, it’s an emergency penectomy! Here.”

Everything was blurry. Something slapped into my hand and it had a trigger. When I pressed it, there was a noise like a mini buzz saw.

“Can anyone direct me back to the eye clinic?”

“Hurry, doctor, it’s about to burst!”

Somebody bumped my arm, and I heard a scream. I said,

“Isn’t the patient anesthetized?”

“Doctor, you got the scrub nurse!”

The floor was getting slippery for some reason and I stumbled to my hands and knees. I managed to get out of the operating room. When I got to my feet, I ditched the scrubs but kept the skull cap because it had some nice red spots on it. Skull caps are usually pretty drab.

I heard somebody shout, “Call Security! The guy is wearing a bloody skull cap!

I sure didn’t want to run into that guy, so I veered into a brightly lit hallway away from all the noise. Bright lights worsen the glare you get after mydriatic drops, so I had even more trouble seeing. It led to what turned into an elevator. It was full of people in dark clothes. When the elevator stopped, I could feel the wind. Apparently, we were on the roof. There was a deafening whirring noise. I had to yell over it,

“Am I anywhere close to the eye clinic?”

“Don’t worry, doctor, remember to duck your head as you board the helicopter. We have to move fast!”

The view of the hospital campus is spectacular from the air. When the air ambulance attendants realized their mistake, they lowered me in a basket back down to the door outside the eye clinic. I was glad to get back inside because it gets a little chilly in a helicopter.

Anyway, to make a long story short (too late!) I got squared away with, among other things, a new prescription for eyeglasses and a fine for practicing surgery without a license.

I had no trouble finding my way back to the parking ramp. Horns were honking everywhere. Everybody was pressing their car key fobs to find their vehicles. I think most of them were leaving the eye clinic.

Picture credit: Pixydotorg.