"I just need my eye checked out. I do NOT wear glasses or contacts!"
These were the words I had to repeat 4 separate times during my conversations with the people at the optometrists office. I suppose it just seemed a no brainer that I had corrective lenses of some sort, since I was after all at an optometrist.
With all of the oddities going on with my body, I had put off my eye because I just get tired of seeing medical professionals of any sort. Well when I was inspecting my poor eyeball, I felt a hard little knot and thought maybe it was time to get it checked out. Not to mention the redness, burning and blurriness that was just not going away completely this time.
After explaining my ongoing symptoms to the optometrist, she concluded that I needed an ophthalmologist because she did not have the necessary equipment to do the testing needed. Great! Here I was so proud of myself for actually going in the first place and now I am back to square one~ kind of.
So of course she says that she will give me my vision tests while I am there even though I have already told her that I see fine (other than the blurriness, discoloration and pain) and do NOT wear glasses.
You see where this is headed don't you!?
After a kazillion "Does this look better or now"'s and blinding lights in my eyes, I was given the results of the unnecessary vision test.
My eyeballs are evidently not the nice round things that they appear to be and are indeed shaped like footballs, with the right (my ailing one) being worse than the left. She also told me I have a d-r-y e-y-e. I just can't say that without dragging it out like on that commercial. I am not sure what exactly I thought the symptoms of dry eye might be, other than it being stuck open because there is not enough lubrication to blink easily, but I was sure I did not have d-r-y e-y-e. Of course the burning and redness could not be caused by that right.? Sometimes I amaze myself with my level of denial or shall we call just call it what it really is ~ stupid arse.
She gave me a sample of lubricating drops and against my better judgement I tried them. OMGoodness do those feel good on that burning little eye of mine. Score!
Now the not so good news.
Football shaped eyes = astigmatism = glasses
The relentless teasing I dish out to my husband about his readers and being elderly and how my eyes are just fine, blah, blah, blah... has come back to bite me right in the buns. I had to eat a bit of crow on this one.
I suppose since our eyes are made of mostly connective tissue and mine just happens to be worthless, I should have expected as much. I have not yet made it to the actual eye doctor and will probably put that off until who knows when. I can't ever seem to see a doctor without having to get 10 more things done. Hmmm!