Dr. Doom

My mom and I were discussing her recent eye doctor appointment. {Right now I can't remember if an eye doctor is an ophthalmologist or an optometrist or whatever "op" it is, and I'm too stinking tired to Google it.  So, for the purposes of this blog it will simply be an eye doctor.}

Anyhow, after she told me her tale we were laughing so hard at how sometimes doctors are just harbingers of joy.  It was so delightful, that halfway through the appointment she told him she was going to start calling him Dr. Doom :)

In the spirit of sharing things we can all relate to with a giggle, I asked her if I could blog some of the highlights of her eye adventure.  She agreed.  So, please, enjoy the lovely snippets of an eye doctor appointment.

My dad went with my mom, probably to act as an emotional support.  Apparently when the doctor went to do the eye test he handed my mom that little spoon shaped thing that you cover an eye with.  He then instructed her to cover her left eye.... which she did.... using her left hand.  The tool sat useless in her other hand.  Ha ha.  She quickly realized her mistake and started laughing.  The doctor looked at my dad and Dad said, straight faced I'm sure, "You'll have to be VERY specific with her!"  I believe from that point forward the doctor took that advice to the extreme.

Mom asked about some droopiness she'd noticed in her left eye lid.  The doctor's reply, "Yes.  That happens when you wear hard contacts for many years."  Oh.... information that may have been helpful 40 years ago.  Then he threw in this little gem, "That will happen to the other eye too.  But don't worry, when you get cataracts and have to have surgery we'll correct the drooping at the same time!"  Oooh.... phew!  Good news indeed!

She, of course, asked about trading to a different type of contact in order to perhaps ward off some of the drooping and he said something about how at this point it would just be extra work to go that route.  She's been wearing the same contacts for years, no reason to go to the effort of changing now.  {Apparently when you're 60 it's all downhill and we wouldn't want to put in any extra effort when cataracts are on their way anyhow!}

Not her actual doctor

Next, during that eye exam where the doctor pretty much sticks his nose on your nose and looks into your soul he said, "Oh, you have a little "v" shape in your eye.  I better make a note of that so that when you get dementia we can remember when that "v" showed up."   Uh..... okay.  You're the doctor!

He also noted a small mole in my mom's eye.  "I'm surprised you don't have melanoma," he said casually.  "Those kinds of moles can kill people.  We'll make a note of that too so that we can refer back to it when it becomes a problem."  Nice bedside manner, this guy!

All in all it was a very uplifting experience.  She was given a clean bill of health - albeit clearly he believed that to be a temporary thing - and sent on her way.

She was able to laugh about it, rather than cry.... because crying would make her eyes swell, which could bring on the cataracts and dementia, not to mention inflame the mole causing fatal melanoma!

You can never be too careful!