2024-05-21 - Eye Appointment

Posted on May 29, 2024
Word Count: 1796

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Not exactly a scene report, since it wasn’t a play session or anything like that. But I think this more or less fits in this category.

About 8-9 months ago I gave up control of my medical responsibilities. It’s now up to Tim to determine what appointments I need and when, etc. Tim has been handling this slowly, focusing largely on the most necessary items first, with a plan to get everything handled within a some period of time (seems like a year to a year and a half).

So far this has manifested with him helping me deal with the COVID vaccine I needed to get for con, and then went with me for a dental cleaning. I was going to do those things anyway, regardless. While I did need the support for the vaccine, I really didn’t need the support for the dental cleaning. I’d rather have him with me if that’s an option, so he drove me there and was with me for it and that was nice.

I was also eventually going to get new glasses. I’ve needed new glasses for years. At least 5. It’s been probably 8ish years since my last eye exam. So it’s been a while. But my prescription is close enough that I can see well enough so it just hasn’t been a priority for me to deal with. He agreed that getting that sorted would be a medium priority. No real rush, but should get handled.

And finally, it was time to get it handled.

So I have some phobia about that glaucoma test where it’s a puff of air from the machine. I don’t even understand it other than when I was so little I barely remember it, I watched my mother get the test and she jumped, made a comment that it was surprising, and from that moment on I’ve been terrified of it to the point that when I was older I’ve just refused the test. The doctor had even commented that when he asked me to sit down for it I went pale. Like it’s not just a little thing, I’m having some sort of panic over it.

And, out of some completely blind luck I never needed to take that test while I was still under my mother’s care or I would have been forced to do it (she has no patience for stupid things like a scared child, so it probably would have made things even worse for me). But I never had to and here I am, terrified of this stupid test.

But also, it’s like an important test or some junk, so I figured some day I’d need to deal with it. I’m also 40. My line in the sand for myself, all through my 20s and 30s was 40.

However, now it’s no longer my line in the sand. Tim didn’t want that line, and said there are other ways of testing for that and he would ask about alternatives. In fact, as much as I was hesitant but willing to do what I had to, he was pretty insistent that he didn’t want to push me into it unless it was absolutely necessary as there are alternatives and it’s not that big of a deal to seek alternatives.

And so I just went with it. I trust him and as long as he was there with me for support I’d do what he wanted me to do. As long as he kept a hand on me, I believed I could do whatever I needed to do.

He made the appointment over speakerphone with me there so that I could help answer any questions they might have. We discussed the upcoming appointment here and there, so he had all the information he needed for it. I wasn’t nervous at all until he came to pick me up to bring me to the appointment. As soon as I was getting ready to actually leave for it I got jittery. Suddenly it was real.

In the optometry office I barely said a word at first. The woman at the desk asked questions and Tim answered while I filled out the paperwork. Tim pushed for an alternative to the puff test and she pushed back. I actually started getting frustrated and angry at her over it all. It was really good for me to have Tim handle that because I would have snapped so hard if I’d decided to chime in.

They had a big machine that did like… eye scans. They recommended scanning every other year and they’re good for testing for things I didn’t listen to. But also the scans could also be used to check for glaucoma. He said that I wanted to do that instead of the “puff test.”
Her exact words, I kid you fucking not, were “you don’t want that.”
Like. Why not? Seriously, why the fuck not?? She never bothered explaining why. Just arguing… She argued with him, trying to say that their puff test was gentle, not as startling. Which actually was good to hear; somewhat comforting. But still.
He told her I didn’t want the puff test. She replied with “how do you know?”
Like. Bitch, I’m standing right here. Ugh I got so angry at that question. It felt like she was calling him a liar and I get very fucking defensive over my partners.
He hesitated but answered with a very calm “because she told me.”

In the end he got his way and she stopped arguing. She wasn’t happy with the situation, though. Very possibly because it was some man talking for a timid-seeming woman. Not the greatest look, I admit, but I really didn’t want to be talking anyway.

Somewhere in all this I had finished the paperwork. It was short, only one page. To give you a good idea about how much my brain was jelly over the stress, I couldn’t remember the year for dating my signature. I remembered the month and day just fine, but the year was gone. My first thought was 2004. Off by just a tad, there. I at least knew that it seemed off. It couldn’t be 2004, but what year was it??? It took a good 15-30 seconds before I was able to remember the year and sign it correctly. Fun fact – my phone only displays the month and day on it, so it was no help in figuring out the year.

After all the arguing was settled, she directed me towards the machines, and I went, but was hesitant about it. Any time Tim lost contact with me I stopped and looked back at him. He wasn’t as diligent about keeping contact with me as I would have preferred. But he was still there, urging me forward gently.

And then the woman asked if he could go stand over away from where I was.
And without a moment’s hesitation, I said loudly, clearly, and firmly, “No, he cannot.”
My heart rate spiked so hard. I don’t remember, but I think I said more about him staying with me when she said something back about him being in the way of the machines. I don’t remember it clearly, but I remember that hard initial reaction. Like fuck no you’re not taking my support away from me. And I remember feeling the thudding of my heart in my chest after that moment. I was extra jittery for quite a while after that point until the adrenaline finally fell away.

She relented and stopped trying to fight Tim. According to Tim at some point after this she kind of nodded at him like – oh okay she gets it now. It became clear how nervous I was, and why he was doing the talking.

Tim kept in contact with me and talked to me and that was comforting, although I was definitely worked up. Calm words and comforting contact can’t force anxiety out me so easily.

It felt so unnecessary. I’m not usually that nervous about the machines, I’m really not. But I was so worked up, over something that he had negotiated away for me… over something that I wasn’t even going to have to go through with. Even the simple “put your chin here and look there” felt so overwhelming. She even promised me she wouldn’t do the puff test, just to reassure me, because we were using that same machine for measurements, too. Some voice in the back of my head was like “this is okay I’ve done this before,” and I was still slow to move my head into position, and hesitant to touch the machine.

The eye scanner was simple, but I was so hesitant and nervous that she asked permission to move my head into place. Which I gave; no big deal. And she pushed my head where the machine needed it to be to do the scan. The second eye was easier, once I knew how the positioning felt I was more or less able to do it myself.

I felt so silly. I felt like I was worked up over nothing, and I was. But I was still worked up. My body was reacting like I was in danger even though I knew I wasn’t. She finished doing the scan and asked us to wait outside until the optometrist was ready. It gave me several minutes to come down off the adrenaline and relax. I kind of laughed with Tim about how stupid it all felt being that worked up.

The actual eye exam where the optometrist reviewed the imaging, and put me through the “one or two” process was easy. I never had any issue with that from the start, and other than a moment where she was surprised that I didn’t do the puff test and asked why, it was no big deal at all. I definitely had no words when she asked why, though, so I was really glad Tim was still there. I hesitated and just kind of looked at him and he chimed in, explaining that I had some issues with it, and she took that answer and moved on, no big deal.

Oh, and no glaucoma. So yay for that.

He helped me pick out new frames, and all in all other than the stressful start, it was an easy trip. I’m genuinely grateful for the support. It was really helpful to be able to let him talk for me when I was stressed. I don’t think well in moments like that. Forgetting the year is a good example of how bad my brain was functioning.

I’m not looking forward to the rest of the medical plans he has for me, but at least he’ll be there supporting me through it the whole time.