I think I'm going blind.

There are a whole lot of things I could live without. Here's one: Medical anxiety.

It goes a little something like this:

Phase 1: Weekend night at practically midnight. Your turn to pick up the teenager from his friend's house. Drag yourself off the couch where you've been sleeping for an hour already, get in the van and go. Among other nonsensical, half-awake thoughts:

"Wait...does that streetlight have a halo around it? Ohmigod, I think that streetlight has a halo around it! Wait...(blink,blink,blink,blink,blink....blink,blink,blink....blink)...it's still there!! But it's just my right eye! (flip alternating eyes closing back and forth for the next 10 minutes, examining every light in the city) Why does my right eye not work?!? Ohmigod it's a cataract. Or glaucoma. Or both!! Or maybe my maculars are degenerating! I have eye diaease and it's happening tonight!"

 (Forgetting, of course, that nobody's eyes work right at midnight after you've already been asleep, you cretin.)

But I digress.

Phase 2: The three-day-long, self-administered, 22,452-step vision test which (with help from Google) ends with a sure  diagnosis of something uncureable that can only result in super-painful surgery and a good chance of full blindness in 18 months anyway. As well as dry and exhausted eyes from nonstop fucking around with your eyes for three days.

Phase 3: The doctor visit lead-up. Inevitably includes visions of power drills, needles, chemicals, and a sure diagnosis of something uncureable that can only result in super-painful surgery and a good chance of full blindness in 18 months anyway.

Phase 4: Preparing for my upcoming life as a blind person.

In case you're wondering, my eyes are perfectly healthy. Well except for that part about being connected to my brain. 

And the exam was stupidly simple and painless.


  • Facebook Basic Square
  • Twitter Basic Square