Tales from the VA

Where do I start this? I guess with getting D to drive me to the VA, when he didn't even get two blocks from my house before he was bitching that his leg was hurting him. (He fell off the back stair at the parts dept sometime last month. Had he gone to PT like the doctor recommended, he probably wouldn't be having this much trouble, but I digress.)

As I learned to do over the course of the past 30 years, I acknowledged the complaint with a meaningless "uh huh", and let it go. There was no more conversation until ten miles down the road when he said he couldn't hear the radio, so he was going to turn
it up. Fine...I couldn't hear it either for the road noise of those gigantic off-road mudgrip tires he has on that truck. So he spent the next half hour switching stations, which has always been a source of annoyance for me. I looked out the window at the freshly plowed and very wet fields that will be planted in cotton in a couple of months. The view is different when you are way up in the air in a monster truck.

We stopped in West Memphis, AR, to go to the Burger King for lunch before we braved the VA. He bought lunch, which I said I would do, and we both got an Angus cheddar burger that was great (sorry, I cannot be a vegan, heheh). He inhaled his and what was left of my fries before I could get done with the burger. Nothing new there, except he didn't say that one more just like it and he'd be fine, which he used to always say.

We got across the river without incident, because any sort of traffic mishap will block the bridge for miles, and prepared to have to circle the parking lot of the VA. As luck would have it, there was a space near the Clinic Annex where you have to go sign in before you go see ANY of the doctors in the entire hospital. So happens that it is also on the farthest most point in the campus if you have to park in the East Lot...so we were double lucky. Whoop.

D was going to buy a paper to read, but the paper machine wasn't functioning, so he had nothing to do while I was there. I signed in at the clinic check-in, and Dan decided that he would park his oversized frame on one of the couches that was right there, and that he would wait for me in that spot. In other words, he couldn't be arsed to walk with me to the eye clinic.

I moseyed on down to the eye clinic check-in, and gave the lady there my paperwork, then took a seat in the waiting area as she directed. My appointment was for 1:15, and it was only 12:30. I sat down and started brailling out my little business cards for the shirts with the business card slate I ordered off ebay. The damn thing only has 11 cells across, so I had to do the first part of the phone number, then flip the card over and finish the line. By the time I did the fifteenth one, I had it down pat.

That was when I heard my name on the page system, and when I went back to the desk, the lady said, someone will be out in a few minutes to get you. So I sat back down and waited some more. After listening to the damn Divorce Court on tv, I was ready to blow out of there. I finally asked her why I hadn't seen anyone yet. Oh, she said, I didn't realise you were here for Ophthalmology. WTF? SHE is the one who handed me a paper when I first got there which was written in at least 24 point type with OPHTHALMOLOGY across the top! She directed me to another waiting room down the hall.

I went in there, sat down again. No one around. I decided I would go find out where the hell I was supposed to be. I grabbed the first person who looked like she might work there and asked if I needed to check in AGAIN. She hauled my paperwork off down another hall, and shortly, someone took me in to do the preliminary screening.

Was it just me, or were the letters getting smaller? She ran me through the eye chart and took my glasses to see what the prescription was. It just now hit me that they did not do a pressure check. Oh, well, glaucoma is not my problem, yet. (My mother has it.)

I was escorted to another room and young Dr. K came in. I remember him from the last time. He's very nice, but has a fishy handshake. Ugh. He pulled up my files on the computer and with an "uh...huh" turned to take me through the next phase. The requisite bright light torture, then he said they would dilate my eyes and be back for me in about 20 minutes. I had to go back out in the waiting area where Divorce Court was still blasting away. I couldn't reach the damn controls, or I would have turned it off. By this time, I was alone.

Dr. K came back for me, and we start the torture again. He says, "You really are sensitive in the right eye, aren't you?" I'm thinking, duh, no, I cry like this all the time. He runs through the eye chart with me again, this time through the funky lens thing, and I couldn't get a good focus out of any of it. When he started that which is clearer, one or two, I couldn't tell much difference unless he went way off. At one point the legs on the E's started to bend. That was very strange.

Final deal was, he gave me a prescription for a new pair of glasses, which he even told me might not make a lot of difference. (Remember, the private doc told me not to waste my money now on a new pair.) He scheduled me to come back in two months for the fluorscein angiogram, because he said he couldn't see a lot going on that was radically different, but my vision is definitely worse from 6 months ago.

I went across the hall to the optician, and actually had a choice of frames. Of course they are not GOOD frames, like the ones I have now, but they look similar. At least they weren't like the "birth control" frames they gave people in boot camp. (So ugly you have no hope of getting laid.) I asked about progressive bifocals, and was told they will not make those. I've never had bifocals with a line in them, and don't want to start now. But free is free. I also asked if I could get a tinted pair for driving, but they won't do that either. However, since I have had cataract surgery, they will tint this pair. So I had to settle for a gradiant tint. They will be on my doorstep in about a month. Who knows if I will even be able to use them? And, it's not like I'm going to get them adjusted when they arrive. Unless I drive to Memphis. Pfffft.

I got my next appointments scheduled, got my travelpay voucher, and took it to the agent cashier to collect my $9.40 travel pay. (That won't even do the gas in MY car, let alone his truck.) D was sitting right where I left him, and it was now 3:25. He said he heard them page me at 1:32.

Now the fun part. Going outside. Thank heavens it decided to cloud up sometime between when we left the building and when we crossed the bridge back into AR. I had a headache and my eyes were tearing something fierce. At least it wasn't bright sunshine like it had been on the way over.

Very little conversation on the way home. I told him about the new freebie glasses and having to come back in 2 months. I'm sure he hopes I can find another ride. This next appt is on a Monday, so I will check to see if the DAV has a van going that day. If not, I guess I will worry about it closer to the time.

He dropped me off at my place, but didn't get out. He complained that he had to go to the grocery store because he didn't have any bread. I believe that if I still lived there, he would not get off his ass from the time he walked in the door until time to go back to work. (Wait...that's how it was when I DID live there!) Things are civil, but I am still very glad to be here by myself with just two cats, instead of a herd.

So, that's the news from here.

What is it about men in tights?

I've been watching Chad Hendrick, the Texan, win his gold medal in the men's speed skating event. As he was whuppin' up on the competition, I was standing in the kitchen, grilling some shish kebobs, minus the veggies (so is that a shish-less kebob, or a kebob-less shish?), and finding myself actually swaying in time to this guy blasting down the ice.

His emotions had bubbled to the surface earlier in the day, making for increased drama for the commentators. Seems this is the anniversary of his grandmother's death, and she was one of his biggest cheerleaders when he was growing up. For a guy who only rollerbladed up until four years ago, this was an amazing performance. After the definite victory, he said he had written her name across the front of one of his skates, and he was going for it for her. Kinda cool, I thought. Not to mention that Chad looks great in tights.

The pairs figure skating is on tonight too. I am one of the klutziest people on earth, so the grace and poise of skaters has me living a vicarious moment, every time I watch it. I can only skate in my dreams, and once in a while, I get to do it, without the requisite busting of my rather ample arse. In my dreams, I get to wear that sparkly skater's dress, and the glistening skates carry me swiftly across a frozen landscape. I'm thin, I'm lithe, and I'm almost floating. I am grateful for my nighttime fantasies. They make the reality somehow easier to take, as strange as that sounds.

And the guy who is skating with me? Man, does he look great in tights! And usually they are red ones. Heh.