Fun and Games with Your Optometrist

I definitely felt like I was in a science fiction movie today. I went to the optometrist, and he had all sorts of new funky equipment since I last went 5 years ago. If you're unfamiliar with how one of these appointments go, here's a summary:

1. First they have to make your pupils bigger than your head so that they can see into your eyeball. This has two lovely side effects -- it means you can't read anything closer than 30 feet away or smaller than a bus, and every single light bulb suddenly goes nova and pierces your brain.

2. Then they ask you to peer at tiny little letters on the wall. Can you read them? No? You must need glasses. Come right this way...

3. The doctor *used to* measure the pressure on your eyes with a puff of air, to detect glaucoma or gonorrhea or something. Today, he had a little thingy that I swear looked like an attachment for R2D2 or Otto from Wall-e. It was a little black probey thing, with a glowing blue light in the tip, and he gradually lined it up with my eye, getting closer and closer. Just as I was thinking, gee, if he gets any closer he's going to poke me with it, DOINK, he did! (Yes, it made a "doink" sound. No, I'm not letting you poke my eyeball to try it out.) So I'm blinking, thinking he's a klutz, but there's the other eye to go, so I trustingly put my other eye back in range of the little R2D2 arm, and DOINK! doesn't he go and poke the other one too! Apparently, they do this on PURPOSE to test the pressure of your eye like poking a ripe tomato or something. If it goes "squish" I guess they know you have a problem.

4. Then the assistant takes a picture of your retinas. Why not? You can get the whole camera in through those pupils, walk right in, don't forget to wipe your feet. The doctor said he'd email me the pictures. We shall see.

5. Then the doctor puts on a virtual reality headset, and plays World of Warcraft for a few minutes while you wait. Eventually he remembers you are there, and shines bright lights in your eyes, just to remind you that you are paying for this experience, and you should get every ounce of enjoyment out of it. After he identifies that you do not have warrior dwarves living in your retinas, you are free to go home as best you can, feeling your way out of the office by braille. If you have forgotten to bring sunglasses, you have my condolences.