I don't like going to the doctor. It irked me when I was a kid, and it hasn't gotten any irkless since then. The horribly stupid, ironic thing is that I work in a hospital. What an idiot.

I went to the eye doctor today. I say eye doctor because I'm not sure if it was an opthamologist or an optometrist. He was, though, a bit of a prick; and because of that, I now have a combative relationship with someone who I'm supposed to trust my health with.

I walk into the office and fill out all the requisite paperwork for first-time patients. I turn it in and they call me back to the room. I sit in one of those big scary fucking chairs. It's got a lamp, a series of painful-looking implements, and something that looks to me like a face harness. I have no idea what it's for, but I hope they don't use it on me.

The medical assistant asks me a series of questions. No, I'm not suffering any symptoms, just want to get a prescription. I have no idea if I'm allergic to medicines, I don't take any. I have no idea if anyone in my family has glaucoma, because I never pay attention to anything they say. Diabetes? You can get diabetes in your eyes?

Then she says "I'm going to give you the glaucoma test." Great, sounds like fun; where do I stick my dick? "But don't worry, it's not the puff of air anymore. Let me give you these numbing eyedrops." I hate eyedrops. When something gets in my eyes, it's painful and it makes this throbbing noise in my head. However, it's got to be better than getting air shot into my eyeball; and it's sure as shit got to be better than having glaucoma.

I let her give me the drops, after which I cringe and snicker a little bit. "Did they sting?" No. Bitch you just put some shit in my eyes, what do you expect me to do, ask for seconds? But she was right, it wasn't as bad as the puff of air. Of course, unbeknownst to me she hadn't finished the damn test yet.

See, the reason she gave me the numbing eyedrops was so she could poke me in the eyeball with a stick. Yes, in these modern times, we've graduated from simply puffing air at peoples eyes to poking them with a fucking stick. She does so repeatedly until the stick beeps, then does the same with the other eye. I continue to snort and snicker a little.

"Everything okay?" Jesus woman, it's 8:30 in the AM and you've already put shit in my eyes, and poked them with some strange beeping implement. When do we get to try out the fucking face harness? Course, I never say a word to her, she's just doing her job. Her sadistic fucking craphole of a job.

After all this wonderful stuff, she asks me if I want to get dialated. I wasn't sure which opening in my body she was going to dialate, but I assume it was my eyes. No matter what, it doesn't really sound like fun, and I can only imagine what tool she'll pull from her medieval arsenal. "Nah, just need a prescription."
"Are you sure? We usually recommend our patients do it once a year."
I'm sure you do, you crazy, torturous madwoman. "No. It's really okay, I'm just here to get a new prescription for my glasses."
"Alright, the doctor will be in too see you soon."

I wait for an eternity. It must've been a good twenty minutes, during which I rode the chair all the way to the top (it had buttons on it) and back down several times, played around with a few magnifying glasses, and actually took a few hits off the eye drop bottles - nasal spray style. What a rush.

The doctor comes in and starts giving me shit about not wanting to get my pupils dialated. I don't argue with him, because doctors scare the shit out of me. As long as he's not lubing up his finger, I'll do whatever he asks. So, he tilts my head back and commences with a series of three drops in each eye. About halfway through the first eye, he can tell I hate eye drops. Which, it doesn't seem to matter to him - he just grabs my eyelid with his thumb and holds my head back. Yay.

Eventually I wrestle free of Dr. Fuckface's grip, and dab my profusely tearing eyes with a napkin. "I'll be back in about twenty minutes." Fuck you buddy. He flips the lights off and leaves the room before I have a chance to kick him in the balls.

Another eternity passes. But I'm not sure how long it lasted because I couldn't see anything. I started to get hungry too. I hadn't planned on this whole ordeal taking more than a half hour, and I'd already been here just over an hour. Or so I thought. It was like being in a French prison - no light, can't see, hungry as hell, never knowing when the next torture session would start. I consider phoning someone to come get me, but everyone went to the airport to pick up my brother. Solitary confinement.

The doc comes back a while later. At this point I can see, but if anything gets too close, it starts to get blurry. Unfortunately for that doc (who I'm certain must have been a prison gaurd in his former years), I've got great reach. The doctor grabs a flashlight and a magniying glass and begins running me through ocular calisthenics. "Look straight up. Look up and to the right, look right, look down and to the right..." All the while shining this fucking light into my dialated pupil. I'm tearing up again, my eyes are blinking like crazy, and I can hear the blood throbbing. Then he goes for the face harness.

"Place your chin here, and look straight ahead." I do so, he clamps the fucker down on my face, and begins again with the "Look up, etc." routine. What a dillhole, I hope his dick is as rotten and black as his soul.

We go through this for about ten minutes, and then he decides we're done. "Your eyes look just fine!" Well, I'm glad we figured that out. I mean, not like I couldn't have told you that twenty minutes ago; you remember that? Back when I could see straight? Yeah, those were the good ol' days.

"So can I get my prescription now?"